


All That I Need

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Angst, Bottom!Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sexual Assault, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Werewolf!Stiles, alternating pov, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where werewolves and humans co-exist, the Hale pack is large and powerful. Derek is the last un-mated Alpha in the family and must find an Omega to bond with or run the risk of going feral. He seems to find a perfect Omega in Stiles, but after they're bonded, is crushed to find his feelings appear to be the result of his wolf instincts. When Derek is instructed by his mother to check out the rumor of rogue hunters threatening a mountain town where he'd spent the past few years, he and Stiles have the opportunity to figure out what they mean to each other.</p><p>Written for LJ's <a href="http://teenwolf-bb.livejournal.com/">teenwolf_bb</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That I Need

**Author's Note:**

> Please see end notes for more in-depth explanation of tags and potential triggers. If you think there's something additional that should be tagged, please let me know.
> 
> The genesis of this story came from my own self-indulgent desire to have a Sterek fic/relationship inspired by "The Painted Veil." Then I decided to just write it myself, including as many of my favorite tropes as I wanted. 
> 
> Thank you to asya_ana for being the first person to read this, and giving me great feedback and a huge boost of confidence.
> 
> Massive thank you to [jsea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jsea/pseuds/jsea) for beta-ing this and helping making it a zillion times better, as well as being available for my neurotic questions. You were so thoughtful and put so much effort into this, especially when you ran into your computer frustrations. Can't thank you enough, bb! *huuugs*
> 
> Margi_lynn, thanks for giving me a fresh pair of eyes, and finding things we might have missed!
> 
> A gigantic thank you to my unbelievably talented artist, Veloshe. I've been on the artist side of it, but I was insanely excited to be on the receiving end of your gorgeous illustrations. Everyone go comment and love her work, [here](http://veloshe.livejournal.com/2142.html)!
> 
> This was my first Big Bang as a writer, and I couldn't have had a better time! Thanks to everyone who helped and put this challenge together.

Derek didn’t want to be here. 

Instead, he was concentrating on glaring down into his glass as if it held the answers to the universe. After a few moments, though, he rolled his eyes at himself and took a drink of his wine. It was wolfsbane-laced, but not strong enough to give him anything more than a slight buzz. If it were any stronger than that, the refreshments could start seriously screwing with the Betas, or God forbid, the Omegas that were all in attendance at the party.

The Hale house was currently packed to the brim with werewolves and their families.

Everywhere Derek went, there were the almost overwhelming sounds and scents of strangers. For the past five years, Derek had managed to avoid these yearly get togethers, but his mother had finally put her foot down, and even being an Alpha himself, it hadn’t keep him from quailing under Talia Hale’s red-eyed glare. 

So here he was, Derek thought grimly, as he drained the last of his wine and headed outside to take a breather. A few of the guests had spilled out into the garden, which was lit by torches and lanterns hung from the trees. It was still fairly warm out, despite being the end of September.

Derek wandered over to one of the trees, leaned his back against the trunk and closed his eyes. His stomach roiled with uncertainty, as he thought of what would happen later in the evening. He blew out his breath on a sigh and then barely restrained a startled curse when his sister’s voice jolted him out of his introspection.

“That was quite the dramatic sigh, little brother,” Laura deadpanned.

“Do you really have to keep proving that you can sneak up on me?”

“Gotta make sure I’m keeping you on your toes,” Laura smirked, bumping her shoulder into Derek’s. He just looked at her silently, and her smirk slowly faded to a more somber expression.

“I know, Derek; it sucks. But you’ve run out of time. Mom’s just got your best interests at heart...she worries about you.” 

Derek let out a bitter laugh.

“Yeah, can’t have me going feral and tearing up innocent people.”

Laura grimaced, then said “You knew this was coming, Derek.” 

“I just don’t like feeling like my future’s out my hands. Shouldn’t I be more than just a slave to biology?”

Not for the first time, Derek felt the fleeting wish that he had been born a Beta, like some of his younger siblings. They would never have to bond if they didn’t want to; they could even end up with a human if they chose. But Laura was right. He hadn’t wanted to worry his family, but even he couldn’t deny that he had started to feel some strain. He tried to keep himself busy at his woodworking studio, but the quiet and repetitiveness only distracted him for so long. He was already almost 27 and the longer he went without bonding with an Omega, the more unstable he felt, particularly when he shifted. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

He shook it head and let it thunk against the trunk of the tree. Laura patted his shoulder.

“Look on the bright side, Derek. It’s our party, so you have first pick of the unmated Omegas.”

Derek snorted and gave her a wry smile.

“Lucky me.”

~~~

Stiles looked at his pale face in the bathroom mirror, and gamely tried to smile. The forced expression looked pretty awful, though. He splashed some more water on his face and cocked his head to listen to the sounds of the party going on down below. Even though he was almost sick with nerves, he had to admit, the Hale family gathering was impressive.

This was Stiles’ first bonding..what did they call it? Party? Ball? Stiles grimaced; that just made him feel like a debutante. He’d had heard plenty of stories about the Hale’s yearly bash from his Mom and Dad, but he hadn’t really known what to expect.

He was eighteen now though; his mom was gone and he knew the unspoken pressure was there to find himself an Alpha. Stiles’ Mom had been an Omega as well, but the rare disease that had taken her life, had done so before she could really explain to her son what it _felt_ like to be an adult Omega.

As awesome as his dad was, he was still an Alpha. There was only so much he could understand about his son.

He had brought Stiles to the doctor at the onset of puberty, and subsequently, before he underwent his first heat. He had gotten his son put on suppressors and hormone controllers; he did his own research and tried to get Stiles ready to face this very night. Even so, Stiles couldn’t help feeling a bit unprepared. He knew the general motions and rituals, and he just hoped he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself, if he was chosen tonight by an Alpha.

Beyond the worry of making a fool of himself, was the feeling that he didn’t have much of a choice in being bonded. Stiles had always been stubborn and independent and the notion that something was out of his control rankled him. There was a constant thrum of instinct low in the back of his mind that he knew was a result of being unbonded.

To keep from getting too upset, he tried to force himself to remember the benefits to finding a bonding partner. At least bonded Omegas had more freedom, and if he found an Alpha with some influence, there could be the potential to do more with his life than work a crap job and play video games.

He patted his face with a towel, straightened his waistcoat and tried to look ready. He opened the bathroom door and rejoined his father on the landing, where he had waited while Stiles used the bathroom.

“You good, kiddo?” John asked.

“Yeah, dad, you know. Just nerves.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” his dad said, clapping Stiles on the shoulder. Stiles gave him what felt like a shaky smile, blew out a breath and headed for the stairs.

~~~

Derek finally abandoned the garden and headed back inside. He noticed his mother across the open area at the base of the stairs, and when she raised an eyebrow at him, he gave her a sarcastic thumbs up. He snorted a laugh when she rolled her eyes and rejoined the conversation with the people at her side.

He was just walking toward the dining room, with the intention of grabbing some food, when a faint smell suddenly accosted his nose. He vaguely recognized the undertone as an unbonded Omega, but he had never smelled anything quite like it before. The scent of an Omega always tended to pique the interest of his wolf’s instincts, but this… This was _more._ This smelled like fresh air and earth and grass; a scent that Derek felt like he could bury himself in and be happily lost.

Derek very nearly reeled, but he managed to hold himself steady. He tried to surreptitiously look around for the source of the smell and his gaze was finally drawn to the large staircase in the middle of the ground floor. 

He recognized Sheriff Stilinski. The Alpha had often had dealings with Talia as werewolf leader of the territory. Which meant the smell must be coming from his son. Derek had only vague memories of him as a gawky kid with a crappy haircut and a tendency to trip over his own feet. That memory certainly conflicted with what he saw now.

The kid – Stiles – his memory supplied, had nearly grown into the promise of broad shoulders and long legs. He was dressed simply in fitted trousers, a black dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and a dark, dark blue waistcoat that highlighted his pale skin and unusual eyes.

Stiles looked aimlessly around the room as he descended the stairs, until his eyes landed on Derek, and then his mouth gaped open slightly. Derek flushed as he realized that he had been caught staring. He turned away and tried to calm his roiling thoughts.

 _That’s him, that’s him, he’s the one_ repeated over and over in his brain. He felt completely out of control, his instincts screaming at him to _claim_ and _take._ Derek’s pulse thundered in his ears and stumbled his way into the kitchen. He planted his palms against the wall and took a few deep breaths as the intensity of Stiles’ scent faded. When he finally calmed down his instinctual reaction, he started to feel angry. That kind of visceral response was exactly what he hated about what he was. He supposed he should feel grateful that at least there was an Omega in attendance that his wolf reacted to that strongly. At least his decision at the end of the night would be easy enough.

~~~

Stiles was heading back down the stairs, intent on doing some mingling damn it, when he felt tiny prickles on the back of his neck. He scanned the room and saw a man staring straight at him. The guy had intense eyes (or maybe just intense eye _brows_ ), dark hair, and he was actually wearing a leather jacket, as if the combined heat of a house full of werewolves didn’t turn it into a fucking furnace. When Stiles met his eyes, the man actually _blushed_ and hurried away toward the direction of the dining room.

“Hey Dad, who’s the guy in the leather jacket?” Stiles asked.

“Who, Derek Hale?”

 _“That’s_ Derek?!” Stiles sputtered. He knew about Derek, of course; it was hard not to know who most of the Hales were. But Derek had been absent from Beacon Hills for the majority of the last few years. He was the last unmated Alpha in the Hale family, and the gossip around town (not that Stiles _ever_ listened to it) was that this year, it was all or nothing. Derek was finally claiming an Omega.

Stiles felt a thrill at the thought of Derek being interested in him. He could definitely do worse. His dad loved the Hales, they had plenty of influence, and Derek was definitely pretty easy on the eyes.  
Maybe accepting a mate wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

~~~

After a few more hours had passed (and Derek had managed to avoid catching any more whiffs of Stiles’ damn, cloying scent), his mother’s voice echoed through the house.

“Family, friends and guests, we’ve reached the crucial point in the evening’s festivities. If you would be so kind as to follow me to the garden, the claimings are about to begin.”

Derek’s father, Robert, held out his arm, and with a glowing smile, Talia took it and escorted the crowd outside. Derek rubbed his sweaty palms on his legs as he followed his parents out the doors. He wondered, belatedly, if he should have sought out more Omegas during the evening, but dismissed the idea, as he was sure that none of them could have affected him to the same degree as Stiles had. He had been around unmated Omegas before and had never been nearly knocked on his ass like he had earlier. Despite the resentment, he decided to trust the instincts of his wolf if he had to follow through with choosing a mate.

Someone had arranged a line of chairs, backlit by lanterns along the edge of the garden. Into these seats filed Stiles, along with eight other Omegas, all looking varying degrees of anxious and excited. The air was filled with an almost electric current of anticipation.

“This year,” Talia began, “I have the honor of presenting my son, Derek Hale, as the first Alpha to now make his claim.”

 _This is it, this is it!_ Derek’s mind quailed. Taking a deep breath, he walked purposefully toward Stiles, seated in his chair. The closer Derek got, the redder Stiles’ face grew, and the more intoxicating he smelled. When he finally reached Stiles’ chair, Derek dropped down on his knees and bowed his head, waiting. It seemed like an interminable amount of time passed, as the onlookers watched silently. Derek heard a creak as Stiles stood up from his chair, then slowly knelt down in front of Derek. He tilted Derek’s chin up with one hand, and looked at him with his amber eyes. He bit his lip and then slowly tipped his head back and to the side, baring his throat.

Derek instantly buried his face in that pale expanse of skin and was relieved to find out that scenting Stiles actually seemed to calm him down. He dimly heard the gathered crowd as they whistled and stomped their feet. He stood up shakily and offered Stiles his hand. He took it and allowed his arm to be folded in the crook of Derek’s, as they walked to the side of the crowd. Derek saw his mother’s eyes shining with tears, the overriding emotion on her face stark relief.

~~~

Stiles concentrated on keeping his breathing even. He could feel Derek’s heat pressed all along the side of his body, and he could hardly believe it. When Derek had strode toward him with no hesitation, Stiles had thought he was going to freak out. But then, when Derek had _knelt_ in front of him, Stiles had nearly frozen, before having the presence of mind to accept him. Now they stood arm in arm as the rest of the Omegas were claimed, one by one. 

Truthfully, Stiles’ mind was running too fast to take much of it in, and he was relieved when the last claiming was done.

Derek still had a tight hold of his arm, but it seemed to help as he was still feeling the rush of adrenaline from being chosen. Stiles looked over to him and when Derek turned his head to meet his gaze, let his mouth curl up in a slight smile. Derek’s eyebrows drew down, but after a moment, there was a tiny lift at the corner of his mouth, and he gently tugged Stiles in the direction of...oh god, his mother and father. Talia Hale pounced as soon as they got within range. She wrapped first Derek, then Stiles, in a tight hug. She cupped Derek’s cheek in her hand as Robert clapped his on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I’m so happy, baby,” she murmured as Derek met her gaze.

“So...what now?” Stiles asked, and then shrank back slightly as he was met with the gazes of all three Hales. It was Robert who answered.

“As I’m sure you know, Stiles, tradition dictates a joining ceremony at the next full moon. It’s a simple ceremony, but mating pairs often have an informal gathering afterwards, before the union is privately consummated.”

Stiles felt himself turning a violent shade of red.

“Beyond the joining ceremony, it’s really up to the two of you,” Derek’s father finished. Talia gave Derek another hug.

“We’ll leave you to discuss things, sweetheart.” His mother said, and Derek nodded tersely, before tugging Stiles hand to lead him to a small copse of trees bordering the yard.

“So,” Stiles said, “we didn’t even really get a formal introduction. I’m...”

“Stiles. I know. Your father spends quite a bit of time with my family.” Stiles felt pleased at what sounded like affection in Derek’s voice when he mentioned Stiles’ father.

“And you’re Derek,” he stated and Derek nodded once in acknowledgement, “I haven’t seen you around much in the last few years.” 

Derek waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve been away. Our family has a place on the outskirts of our territory.” He stared down at his hands like he didn’t know where to put them.

“And you came back to claim an Omega,” Stiles concluded, smirking. Feeling a rush of confidence, he added, “I guess your wolf liked what he saw.”

“Yes.” Derek answered flatly, his jaw tightening. Stiles’ smile faded at the abrupt answer and an awkward silence descended. He finally cleared his throat and plowed ahead.

“So what are we going to do about this joining ceremony then?” Stiles asked.

Derek grimaced and said quietly, “I don’t like being the center of attention.”

“Oh thank God. I hate parties where I’m the focus,” Stiles laughed in relief. “Maybe just have our families to witness? And fuck the afterparty.” 

Derek relaxed slightly. “If that’s what you want.”

“That wasn’t so hard. Let’s call it settled then.” Stiles nodded decisively. They looked around at the slowly dispersing crowed of mated pairs and their families. Derek made an aborted move to grab Stiles’ hand, but dropped it back to his side.

“Your father’s probably waiting for you. I’ll be in touch Stiles.” With those words, Derek turned and strode towards the house. 

Stiles looked around, a little baffled at Derek’s quick exit.

“See you around,” he muttered, and then he turned, trying to spy his father through the crowd.

 _One hell of a night_ , he thought.

~~~

Derek marched into the house, intent on searching for his keys. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment and sleep, and try to process everything in the morning. He found his keys hanging on a hook inside the kitchen door, and then made a beeline for the front door.

“Derek.” He turned when he heard his name, and he saw his mother walking slowly towards him. 

“I’m sorry you feel the way you do about all of this. But I’m proud of you; you made the right choice.”

“Did I?”

“You’ll know,” his mother responded. “Everything will be all right.”

Derek was barely aware of the drive home, but before he knew it, he was unlocking the front door of his apartment. An apartment that in a matter of weeks, would no longer be just his, but shared with Stiles. At the thought, he made a mental note to arrange some movers to bring Stiles’ belongings here, after the joining. 

He opened his fridge and grimaced at the science experiments it contained, and he decided he should probably find out what kinds of food Stiles liked as well. 

Despite his exhaustion, Derek continued to make a list of everything he could think of that needed to be taken care of in the next two weeks, before he finally struggled out of his shoes and jacket.  
He threw himself face down on the bed without bothering to remove the rest of his clothes.

~~~

The next two weeks passed in an almost surreal blur to Stiles. The day after the claiming, Derek had called Stiles and they had had an awkward phone call littered with pauses. The general gist had been to figure out what Stiles liked to eat (“What don’t I like to eat; seriously?”), to set up the location of the joining (the Preserve bordering the Hale homestead; no surprise there), what the ceremony would be like (“As short as possible” “No arguments from me”), and who would be in attendance (just Stiles’ dad and Derek’s parents). After that bizarre communication, there had been pretty much radio silence from Derek’s end, and Stiles, who wasn’t really sure what the protocol was with this himself, avoided initiating contact as well. 

Instead, he spent his time hanging out with his best friend, Lydia, an Alpha that was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure. Stiles believed she had hung the moon, and he used to entertain endless fantasies about her claiming him when they were old enough. That hope had dwindled as they had gotten older, replaced by a deep affection and respect. She helped him pack his things and tried to help Stiles absorb the fact that he’d soon be leaving his childhood home for good, leaving him touched and grateful for her presence in his life.

The day before the full moon, Lydia arrived in his room like a whirlwind, and announced she had finished putting together his wedding outfit (“Joining.” “Same difference, Stiles!” “Uh, not really.”). She had dressed him for the night of the claiming as well; Stiles had long accepted that he knew next to nothing on presenting himself well. She had settled on a simple, white dress shirt tailored for fit close to his body, with an open neck. Stiles flushed at the implication of that design choice. The trousers she had picked were fawn colored and unbelievably soft. He didn’t even want to know how much they cost, but Lydia waved off his protests and gleefully made Stiles try them both on. 

“And don’t worry about Derek; I took care of him too.”

Stiles didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed. “You dressed my fiance?!”

“I thought you weren’t having a wedding?” Lydia smirked.

“Betrothed, mate, whatever!” Stiles snapped, and Lydia waved her hand, “You needed to look good together. I also told him I’d rip his balls off if he hurt you.”

“What?!” Stiles yelped, and then glared when Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I didn’t. But don’t think I won’t.” Her eyes flashed red at her statement, and Stiles could help but smile softly at her,

“Thanks, Lydia. For everything.” 

Lydia pulled him into a hug. “Anything for you, sweetie,” and she kissed the top of his head.

~~~

The day of the joining seemed to be rushing at Derek like an oncoming train, and he kept cycling continuously between excitement and dread. The two weeks leading up to it, he’d tried to fill with mundane things like shopping, cleaning the apartment and work. He felt a desperate urge to maintain a sense of normality, even though he was worried his life was spinning out of control. He’d mostly succeeded (aside from a frightening and baffling visit from Stiles’ friend Lydia). He adjusted the moss green shirt that she had foisted on him, while giving him the distinct impression that that she’d feast on his entrails if he refused. She had paired the shirt with dark brown slacks, that he grudgingly admitted looked good on him.

He glanced around his apartment, that he had maniacally cleaned, one last time, and then he took a deep breath before heading to his car. Before he knew it, he was being led through the Preserve, behind his parents, ready to be joined with his soon-to-be mate.

~~~

Stiles paced back and forth on the grass of the clearing, the full moon heightening all his senses and subsequently, his nerves.

“Do you think you could maybe quit that kiddo?” Stiles’ dad asked wryly. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry, dad. It’s just...this is huge.”

“Believe me; I know.” And then, oh jeez, his dad’s eyes got all soft, which always meant he was thinking about Stiles’ mom.

“I miss her too, dad,” Stiles said before being swept into a hug. They drew apart when they heard the quiet approach of more people, and then Derek was there, preceded into the clearing by his parents.

“Ready, son?” John asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied and stepped up to Derek, as each set of parents took up positions behind their children. Stiles was glad that they had settled on the extremely short version of the ceremony; he felt ready to fall over. 

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes and saw the uncertainty he felt on his own face mirrored there. He gave Derek a slight smile and a nod, before Derek reached out and clasped Stiles’ hand in his. He cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked as he said, “I, Derek Hale, claim you, Stiles, as Alpha claims Omega,” and then his eyes flashed red briefly. 

Stiles replied, “I, Stiles Stilinski, accept you, Derek, as Omega accepts Alpha.” When he finished speaking, Derek’s father stepped up to them, and carefully wound a red silk cord around their clasped hands, before tying a knot that lay across the tops of them.

[ ](http://imgur.com/0wNvHlR)

_Just one more thing to do,_ Stiles thought, before he tipped his head to the side. Derek pulled at their bound hands, and brought Stiles close, breathing hotly over his neck. Stiles bit hip lip and felt the pinpricks of pain as Derek placed a ceremonial claiming bite on his neck. The blood ran down the collar of his shirt, staining it, before the tiny marks closed up and healed.  
Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes, that were still faintly glowing red. A tentative thread of relief mixed with anxiety flashed through him. The hard part, the anticipation...that was over now. Right?

~~~

Derek drove slowly back to his...their apartment, although he had to fight the urge to put a hand out to stop Stiles’ leg from continuing the restless jittering for the entire ride. He thought back to the last few minutes in the Preserve. Stiles’ dad had hugged his son and bid him off with a smile, as had his own parents. The general unspoken atmosphere had been that their job was done, and the rest was now up to Derek and Stiles.

Derek wanted Stiles badly, his hands aching to run all over him, but he still felt torn between his instincts and logic. He barely knew Stiles and now he had to bring him home and consummate this. The one consolation was that after the joining, he could smell Stiles’ arousal pouring off of him in waves. The joining had magnified Stiles’ natural Omega desires tenfold, and it was driving Derek crazy. He wondered how sharp Stiles’ Omega senses were...if he could tell what Derek was feeling? 

The silent drive ended and Derek parked his car in his usual spot. He led Stiles up to his apartment, and fel a touch of pride when Stiles went through the door and looked around appreciatively.  
“Nice place. Am I getting a tour or...” he trailed off as Derek backed him up against the wall and slid his mouth over Stiles’. Stiles opened up immediately and made a pleased sound as Derek slipped his tongue into his mouth. Derek felt lost in the warmth of Stiles’ mouth, in the feeling of Stiles’ tongue sliding over his. Despite his age, Stiles was a talented kisser, practiced in his movements. Derek broke away after a few long minutes and tugged Stiles in the direction of the bedroom.

“Straight to the fun stuff, I guess,” Derek heard Stiles mutter from behind him. Derek kicked the door shut and started systematically taking off his clothes. Stiles just gaped for a few minutes, before his shaking hands went to the hem of his shirt. Once he was naked, Derek moved closer and batted Stiles’ hands away.

“Let me,” he murmured, slipping Stiles’ shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest with its gently defined muscles. Derek felt his mouth water and instantly gave into his instincts to touch. He skimmed his hands gently up Stiles’ arms, and watched as goosebumps sprang up in their wake, and Stiles’ nipples hardened into peaks. Derek bent forward and dragged the flat of his tongue over one nipple. Stiles exhaled like the breath had been punched out of him, a whimpered, ‘oh god’, barely audible at the end of it. 

Derek pushed Stiles back onto the bed, before dragging the pants and briefs down Stiles’ long legs, his dick getting caught briefly on the elastic edge, before coming loose to slap wetly on his stomach. Stiles’ thighs were wet with the slick generated to ease the mating; the sharp tang of that scent, mixed with the precome leaking steadily from Stiles’ cock, inflamed Derek more. He reached down to his own erection and stroked it a few times as Stiles watched with wide eyes. Derek gave into temptation and climbed onto the bed, his arms bracketing Stiles’ head and shoulders. Stiles stared up at him with almost comically wide eyes, his entire body shaking with what seemed like a combination of arousal and nerves. Derek slowly lowered himself onto Stiles, inexorably pressing every inch of their bodies together. He buried his face in Stiles’ neck and started a continuous rumbling growl, using one hand to pet down the side of Stiles’ body. Slowly, Stiles stopped shaking and after a few minutes, he started moving his hips in aborted little thrusts against Derek, whimpers falling from his mouth. After a moment, Derek shifted his weight to the side and helped Stiles roll over, keeping him spooned to Derek’s front.

Idly, he wished that he could take the time to wring as much pleasure from Stiles as he could, but he was already so on edge, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. And there was only one outcome that would complete the joining and cement their mating bond. Derek trailed his fingers down Stiles’ sweat-slick spine until he reached the cleft of his buttocks, where Stiles’ own lubrication had spread almost to the small of his back. Stiles’ breathing was ragged and sounded close to hyperventilation, smelling overwhelmingly of arousal and need. Derek carefully slid two fingers down to Stiles’ entrance, his other arm trapped under Stiles’ torso. He kept up his chest-rumbling growl and stroked what skin he could reach as he pushed one finger past the rim of Stiles’ hole. The volume of Stiles’ breathing increased until it seemed to fill the room, as Derek added another finger and pumped them in an out, Stiles clenching rhythmically around him. 

“Please,” Stiles whispered, arching his back and pushing his ass into Derek’s pelvis. Derek withdrew his fingers, gathered up some of the slick to lube himself up, and lined his cock up with Stiles’ hole. As the head pushed past the rim, Stiles let out another explosive noise and Derek stopped.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked. Stiles violently shook his head as his hand scrabbled to grab hold of Derek’s leg, sliding in the sheen of sweat that coated it,

“No, no, please. Keep going.” 

Derek continued his inexorable slide in until his groin was flush against Stiles’ body, his hand curled around Stiles’ hip, holding it possessively. He felt overwhelmed by the hot, tight clutch of Stiles’ body as he started to thrust in and out. He shoved his face into the back of Stiles’ neck as his hips snapped faster and faster, encouraged by the curses and pleas that fell almost continuously from Stiles’ lips. He felt the familiar tingle of orgasm starting to flood his limbs with warmth, as well as the tell-tale swelling of the knot at the base of his dick. He managed a few more thrusts before the knot swelled too large, and he was left to grind as deeply as he could manage, while Stiles groaned. After a few more moments, Derek felt his orgasm explode through his body and he clamped his teeth down hard on the back of Stiles’ neck. He felt Stiles’ blood rush into his mouth, even as his come flooded Stiles’ body. 

When he came down, he carefully pulled his mouth off of Stiles neck and licked the rapidly healing bite, soothing it. He noticed Stiles was still squirming, not able to move far because of the knot. Derek reached around and palmed his still hard dick. Stiles sighed in relief and then moaned loudly as Derek started pumping his fist. Stiles suddenly curled up as much as he could, clamped down on Derek’s cock and came over his fingers. They both lay in silence as their hearts’ frantic pace slowed and returned to normal. 

“Are you all right?” Derek asked, after a few more minutes of Stiles not speaking.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Stiles’ voice sounded wrecked, but sated. “How long’re we going to be stuck here?”

“Thirty minutes or so...it can vary,” Derek answered as his dick continued to twitch and spurt come every few seconds. After that, they lapsed into silence again. Derek felt himself withdrawing into his head. The entire time he’d been touching Stiles, he had been utterly concentrated on the urge to mate, and his wolf had howled for joy, but now, his instincts had receded, leaving only his human sensibilities. He rapidly felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness overtake him. 

He was laying in bed with a virtual stranger, and now they were bound together for life. He tried desperately to find some flicker of emotion for Stiles, but without the mating instinct, all that was, was polite indifference. 

It was just what he had been afraid of, Derek thought miserably.

~~~

When Stiles woke up, he felt completely disoriented. He flailed minutely, before his hand bumped a warm lump next to him, and the memory of the night before flooded back. He flushed with pleasure as he recalled how Derek had expertly played his body. He was obviously experienced, and he had made Stiles’ first time more than memorable. The only odd thing, Stiles thought, was that Derek had been virtually silent throughout. 

_Maybe that’s just how he is in bed_ , Stiles thought to himself. After his knot had receded and Derek had pulled out, he had walked nude to the bathroom and brought back a warm, wet washcloth for Stiles to clean himself off. Afterwards, he had cleared his throat and summarily bid Stiles goodnight before he rolled over on the other side of the bed, and seemed to pass out. Stiles had been so overwhelmed with the events of the day that he had followed Derek into sleep soon after.

Now, Stiles stretched languidly, enjoying the small, pleasant aches from the night before. The more he thought about it, the more a slow burn of arousal thrummed through his veins. He felt himself start to stiffen and rolled over to press himself along Derek’s back. He wondered if he should feel awkward, but decided that he probably had the right to feel up his mate. He ran his hand up and down Derek’s side and felt Derek’s breathing speed up as he woke. Stiles smiled to himself and pressed his lower body closer, zings of pleasure shooting up his spine. 

He slid his hand around Dereks’ front and was shocked to find him completely limp. Stiles yanked his hand back like he’d been burned and stammered out,

[](http://imgur.com/ZeW4d6D)

“I’m sorry...sorry. I thought...I don’t know what I thought.” Stiles shrunk back to the side of the bed as mortification flooded his body. Derek just rolled out of the bed and headed for the bathroom, as Stiles lay there, embarrassed and confused. The arousal drained out of his body like he’d been doused with ice water.

~~~

Derek took a quick shower and when he returned, he was relieved to find Stiles fully dressed, obviously having discovered his clothes that had been moved to the apartment yesterday afternoon. Derek felt a little guilt when Stiles turned red and didn’t meet his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” Stiles asked tentatively.

“We’re mated; we’ve completed the bond.” 

“That’s what I mean. We’re mates now, doesn’t that...”

“I don’t know, Stiles. My instincts are settled; I’m not in danger of going feral. But you’re basically a stranger to me. You’ll stay here, of course, but as far as I’m concerned, you can do what you like.” 

Derek winced a little as Stiles looked thunderstruck, his mouth working soundlessly. But dammit, he wasn’t going to sugarcoat his feelings.

“Then what am I even doing here?” Stiles finally sputtered.

“Fulfilling our bond. You know the kinds of bad shit that could go down if we break it. You’ll stay here, you can get a job or something, and we’ll just do what we need to do.”

“What the hell, man?” Stiles railed, “Are you serious right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Derek asked. “You can unpack the rest of your stuff; I need to go to work. I’ll be late getting back.” Derek turned and headed for the door, ignoring the feeling in his gut as he turned his back on Stiles’ distraught and confused face. 

The latch of the lock sounded deafening to his sensitive ears.

~~~

Stiles felt like a fucking idiot. Whatever he had expected out of this situation had been completely blown out of the water. In a daze, he moved around the apartment and unpacked the few things that had been sent over. He wished he could call Lydia, but in another crotch punch, a few days earlier, she had told him that she was moving to London with Jackson Whittemore. Stiles had always known she’d probably mate with that jackass, but he didn’t have to like that it. Besides, what the hell would he even tell her? Derek was right; now that they were mated, he was pretty much out of options for the time being. Unless he wanted to risk his physical health or even his sanity by forcibly breaking their bond, he was stuck. 

Stiles got pissed as he felt the humiliation wash over him again at the thought, and he angrily dashed away the tears that started to form.

Jesus, why did Derek have to be such a fucking douche?! He considered calling the one other person he felt comfortable with, but then felt like he wanted to vomit as he thought of explaining what had happened to his own father. He had no one to talk to, he thought sadly. He blew a breath out. He’d figure this out. He was smart (aside from the genius decision to mate a giant _asshole_ ).  
No matter how Derek had spoken to him that morning, Stiles refused to believe that he was a completely heartless jerk. They’d figure something out.

~~~

_**Six weeks later** _

Derek was working on a draft for a new project when he heard the keys jingle in the lock. Stiles came in the door, saw Derek and gave him a nod, before he headed in the direction of the bedroom. Over the past month and a half, they had developed a routine that seemed to be working. Stiles had come to Derek two days after the joining and demanded that they work something out, so they wouldn’t break Stiles’ dad’s heart with the knowledge of how fucked up their bond situation was. They’d agreed on weekly dinners with Stiles’ dad, and monthly runs on the Preserve with the Hales to keep up appearances.

Stiles got a job; Derek kept long hours at his woodworking studio. They shared household chores and they shared the bed to keep their scents mingled.  
They hadn’t had sex since the night of the joining.

Stiles came out of the bedroom, dressed in his work uniform of white button-down and pants.

“I’m leaving. I’ll be back at eight.” 

Derek nodded without looking up, and said “I’m thinking spaghetti tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles replied. “See you later.” 

Derek made an affirmative noise and told himself he didn’t hear the small sigh that Stiles fetched as he walked out the door. 

He went back to immersing himself in his new design, and ignoring the sour feeling of guilt burning in his stomach. It was a commission for a toy chest, and the client seemed like the type to flip their lid if it wasn’t perfect. For about a half an hour, Derek lost himself in the design process, before his cell phone rang and jarred him out of his concentration. 

He answered with a clipped, “What.”

“ _Nice manners, tool,_ ” came the female voice through the speaker.

“What do you want, Laura?” Derek asked, as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“ _It’s Mom; she needs you to come by to talk...why don’t you bring Stiles?_ ”

“He’s at work,” Derek answered stiffly, and Laura sighed.

_"So, how’s it going with the two of you? Still crappy?”_

Derek sputtered, but realized there was really literally no point in denying it.

“He’s just...here. My mating instinct disappeared and...there’s nothing there. As long as we’re living together, I have control, but I expected there to be some kind of feelings once my instincts receded.”

 _“Usually there are. Maybe you just aren’t recognizing them?”_ Laura mused. 

Derek huffed. “Yeah, maybe. But we hardly talk...and I don’t think Stiles is much interested in anything to do with me.”

_“Christ, how badly did you fuck this up, Derek?!”_

“Why are you putting the blame all on me?” Derek demanded.

 _“Because that’s where it sounds like it falls,”_ she retorted. _“You were so worried about this whole thing, and you panicked and took it out on Stiles.”_  
Derek winced, “....Yeah, you’re probably right.”

_“Like usual, little man. Can you be over in thirty?”_

Derek said he could, hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch. He dreaded going to his parents, but he couldn’t ignore his mother. If Laura had seen right through the two of them, he knew his mother certainly could. He could only hope that she wouldn’t bring it up.

Derek worried the entire drive over. He climbed out of his car, slamming the door and trudged up to his parents’ house.

“Hello?” he called when he walked through the door.

“In here, baby,” he heard his mother say. He walked into the dining room and saw his mother, father and Laura sitting around the table, a map of the Hale territory spread out before them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We’ve been getting some disturbing reports from Potter’s Ridge.” 

That caught Derek’s attention. Their house on the Ridge was where Derek had spent most of the past few years. It was an isolated area; a small population of wolves and humans on the Hale territory border. It had always been peaceful...at least, up until now apparently. Talia tapped the map with her fingernail.

“We’ve gotten word of a possible rogue hunter; maybe even more than one. There’s been some threats. Nothing too serious, but it’s gotten people nervous. I’ve spoken to the Argents and they’ve got no clue who could be up there.” 

Derek felt his lip curl at the mention of their resident hunter family. Hunters could be useful in tracking ferals or rogue wolves, but Derek had always had the feeling that some of them would prefer the Hales mounted on their walls.

“What are you thinking?” Derek asked.

“I want to give it a couple weeks, but I’m thinking of sending you to get a feel for the situation. You know the territory and the people up there trust you,” Talia said bluntly.

“Of course,” Derek replied.

“Is two weeks enough time for you to get ready?” his father asked. Derek would have to postpone a few commissions, but he’d deal. At worst, he still had a small workshop up on the Ridge. 

“Two weeks,” Derek agreed.

~~~

Stiles clattered into the bookstore slash cafe where he worked, the autumn breeze chasing a few leaves in after him. 

“Stiles, I could use some help here!” 

A line of customers had backed up nearly into the bookstore, waiting for their orders to be filled.

“Coming, Ethan,” Stiles answered, and hurried to take off his coat. He and Ethan had bonded over music and movies Stiles’ first few days on the job, and Ethan had enough pull with their manager to ensure their shifts almost always coincided. Stiles was grateful. The void that Lydia had left had him feeling off-kilter, and he was desperate for someone to talk to. Stiles shrugged off his jacket and washed his hands, before helping prepare the various pretentious drinks for the surly mob. 

When the rush settled down, and Stiles and Ethan had had a chance to rest, Stiles felt his mind begin to wander, until a wet rag slapped the back of his head.

“Argh, you bastard!” Stiles growled as Ethan burst out laughing, his eyes crinkled up in a smile.

“What’s eating you, Stiles? That Alpha of yours still being a prick?” Ethan pulled a face and Stiles snorted.

“Derek’s...Derek. He’s fine, I guess. We still don’t talk much.” Stiles knew that would have to change, and soon. He was due to go into a heat next week and he wanted to talk to Derek long before he went crazy and started humping the furniture. (He had lied about taking suppressants only once, so he could find out what a full heat felt like. His dad’s desk hadn’t survived, and they’d never spoken of it.) Stiles had worried endlessly for the past week about how he’d even begin that conversation, though.

Ethan voice interrupted his thoughts, “I’m sorry, Stiles, but he’s a fucking moron that doesn’t know what he’s got.” Something in his voice made Stiles snap his gaze over, but Ethan was busy wiping down the counters and didn’t meet his eyes.

Feeling a little unnerved, but not knowing quite sure why, Stiles got back to work. A few minutes later, Derek texted him.

**meeting w/mom- b late home. On your own for dinner.**

Stiles sighed and worried his lip between his teeth.

~~~

Two days later, as Derek was busy cleaning the kitchen, he mentally ran through what he had to take care of, before leaving for the Ridge.

 _Like tell Stiles,_ his brain supplied. He heard Stiles as he shuffled around the living room doing who knows what. He’d been unusually twitchy all day, something clearly on his mind. It had driven Derek out of the apartment for peace and quiet, but obviously, time hadn’t helped. Unable to take it anymore, Derek huffed and dropped the sponge into the sink, before following the noise. He found Stiles wandering aimlessly around the living room.

“What is it?” Derek asked flatly. 

Stiles looked up, his mouth an ‘o’. He looked like he was wrestling internally with what to say, before blowing out a breath and going for it.

“I know we haven’t...done anything since the first night, but...well, I’m coming up on a heat. Next week, actually. And I just thought we should...I don’t know...talk about it?” 

Derek shrugged, “I don’t think there’s anything to say.” 

Stiles face wrinkled in confusion. “Uhh...I kind of think there is.” 

Ignoring him, Derek walked to the bedroom and pulled a bottle out of his sock drawer. He walked back to the living room and tossed it at Stiles, whose hand shot out and caught it by reflex. He looked at the label and his jaw dropped.

“Suppressants?” he asked, disbelievingly, “You’re kidding, right?” Derek cringed at the accusatory note in Stiles’ voice, but said nothing. He’d gone to the doctor about a month earlier, and had had no problem getting the prescription. Occasionally, circumstances required a mated Omega’s heats to be suppressed, so they weren’t incapacitated.

Stiles laughed bitterly, “No, I get it. Why would you want to do anything to help me; I’m just your _mate._ ” His face twisted on the word. Derek stuck his hands in his pockets, but he kept his face impassive. He’d done what he’d done; he wasn’t going to take it back, though his silence just seemed to piss Stiles off even more, if the color of his face was anything to go by.

“You know what? _Fuck_ you, Derek Hale. Fuck you and your closed fucking mouth.” With that, Stiles spun around and marched out of the apartment. Derek’s gut twisted. He had a feeling that he was in the running for the worst Alpha in existence. No matter what, he kept mis-stepping and not thinking about Stiles. The more he thought about it, the more getting away to the Ridge felt like a good plan. He was more comfortable there...maybe he and Stiles would actually be able to talk without having issues.

~~~

Stiles stomped down the sidewalk feeling like his blood pressure was sky high. Just when he thought Derek had pulled out all the douchebag cards, he had another fucking ace up his sleeve. He wished violently that he could talk to Lydia in person. Even if he called her, it wouldn’t be enough. He was someone who craved that physical component to comfort. 

Suddenly, a streak of lightning arced overhead, followed by a clap of thunder and it immediately started to rain.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered and wrapped his arms around himself. He pulled his phone out and texted Ethan.

**U busy? Need some help.**

**Wat hpned?**

**Walked out on Derek after a fight. Stuck in rain.**

**Where ru?**

**4th & Cottage St. **

**Be right there**

Stiles put his phone away and concentrated on not shivering. Fifteen miserable minutes later, Ethan pulled up in his piece of shit, but thankfully dry, car. Stiles climbed into the passenger seat and took the towel Ethan offered him gratefully. He wiped down his face and hair, Ethan driving seemingly aimlessly, before pulling into an empty parking lot in front of a strip mall.

He turned off the engine and looked at Stiles, waiting. Stiles pulled the bottle out of the pocket where he had stashed it and turned the label so Ethan could see.

“Suppressants, huh?”

“Great, right?” Stiles said. “I’m mated to an Alpha, but I still have to suppress my natural heats. Just my fucking luck.”

“I’ll say it again, Stiles. Derek’s an asshole.”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s me. But now we’re bonded and there’s almost no way to break it and...” Stiles felt panic closing in. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt tears rolling down his cheeks. Air whistled in and out as he breathed in ragged gasps. Dimly, he was aware of Ethan’s hands squeezing and running over his back and arms. He took a few steadying breaths, and as his racing heart slowed, he felt a pair of lips over his.

Ethan’s mouth was soft as he encircled Stiles’ waist with his arms. It felt nice, but Stiles’ body tensed, as his instincts screamed at him that this was wrong. 

He pulled away. “Ethan, wait..Derek.” 

Ethan ignored him, trailed his lips down Stiles’ neck. “Derek doesn’t take care of you. I will; I’ll take care of you...it’ll be so good Stiles, you’ll see.” He stopped and sunk his teeth in the juncture of Stiles’ neck and shoulder. 

Stiles tried to rear back in shock, but Ethan’s arms were like vises around him. 

“The hell, Ethan! Are you crazy?” His hand reached up to the bite and he was horrified that he came away with blood on his fingers. Ethan pulled away, his already blue eyes glowing electric in the car.

“What did you say?” he asked quietly. 

“Ethan, let me go...you’re my friend, but this isn’t right.” 

At his words, Ethan snarked, “Don’t give me that bullshit. I’ve been listening to you whine for the past six weeks about Derek. You’re unhappy as fuck, and I’ve heard all of it. You were practically begging me to take you away. Sometimes you put off so many pheromones, you almost smell unmated.” 

Stiles’ mind reeled. He felt like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. Ethan’s entire demeanor had changed. Had Stiles really been doing that? Leading him on? He buried his face in his hands; his mind was whirling; he couldn’t think.

Ethan grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down from his face. His expression had gone soft again, but Stiles couldn’t forget how quickly he had shifted to anger.

“Stiles,” he growled lowly, “I want you. I know you want me too.” 

Stiles shook his head mutely, still feeling bewildered. Ethan guided Stiles’ hand down to his pants. When Stiles felt how aroused Ethan still was, despite Stiles being so upset, it galvanized him like an electric charge. He ripped his hand away.

“Ethan, stop!”  
The emotion on Ethan’s face completely dropped away, his face wiping clean and leaving behind what could’ve been an expressionless mask. 

“I should’ve known you’d be fucking worthless. Waste of my goddamn time.”

Stiles felt nausea rising in his gut. He flailed behind him and let himself out of the car. Ethan slammed the door behind him and took off. 

_Fuck my life,_ Stiles thought. He’d never felt more alone, than he did in that moment. He crossed his arms and started walking back to the apartment, his teeth already starting to chatter.

~~~

Derek listened to the rain sleeting down the window, and felt a twinge of unease. Stiles had been gone for nearly two hours. He debated whether he should go out and look for him, but the rain fucked with his ability to scent. That and Stiles probably didn’t want to be found at the moment, anyway. He turned on the television and kept the volume down low, and about thirty minutes later, the door opened and Stiles’ scent wafted in, almost overwhelmingly colored with misery. Derek clamped down on what felt like abject relief that Stiles was safe, and turned to look at him.

Derek saw how wet he was, and retrieved a towel from the linen closet that he handed over wordlessly. He froze in shock when he saw the faded teeth marks on Stiles’ neck. Without even realizing it, he found himself losing control. He partially shifted, letting out a snarl, and Stiles threw himself backward, looking terrified as Derek fought for control. 

Several tense minutes passed before Derek bit out through his fangs, “We need to talk. Now. Go change.” Stiles disappeared into the bedroom, reappearing a few minutes later, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. Derek was seated on the couch, and Stiles picked his way over and sat down on the opposite end. 

“Explain that,” Derek said tersely, motioning to Stiles’ neck. 

When Stiles said nothing, he added, “please.” 

Stiles looked down at his hands. “I called someone from work to come pick me up. He came on to me...he bit me.” Derek restrained himself from shifting again, but only just. Stiles kept looking down toward the ground.

“I pushed him away. My instincts told me it wasn’t right, because of our bond I guess. Turns out he’s a douchebag anyway. Guess I attract them,” he finished bitterly, and Derek frowned. Stiles looked up at him and said flatly,

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” 

Derek let out a humorless laugh, “It seems like it.” They subsided into silence for a few moments.

“Stiles,” Derek began, “I had...have no clue what I’m doing here. Your expectations were so different from mine...and I hoped that there would be feelings there after we mated. But there aren’t.”

“Peachy,” Stiles said, the corners of his mouth downturned.

“I have a cabin up on Potter’s Ridge.” 

Stiles looked up at him, startled at the abrupt change of subject.

“There’s been noise about rogue hunters threatening the area. My mother wants me...us...to go there. Next week.” 

Stiles said nothing and Derek plowed on, “What we’re doing right now isn’t working. Maybe...if we spent time together away from everything...it’ll get better.” 

Derek was shocked when Stiles burst out laughing. He clutched his belly until tears streamed down his face and the laughed tapered off, leaving very little humor, just pain. “Well, I certainly hope it can’t get any worse.”

~~~

Stiles stared out the window and watched the countryside as it whizzed by. The past week had gone by in a haze. Part of that was because he’d taken his suppressants and they always left him feeling off. He’d quit his job (not too much of a hardship, considering he never wanted to see Ethan’s face again) and tried to figure out what the hell he needed to pack for this trip. He’d done some research on Potter’s Ridge and found out that while remote, it wasn’t uncivilized. It had a pretty self-contained population, and as such, a lot of small local businesses, restaurants, specialty stores and the like. Apparently, it drew a tourist population in the winter, for skiing and other snow sports. 

Stiles could see how rogue hunters could be a big problem out there, though. They must feel pretty isolated from most kinds of help. Stiles shifted his gaze to Derek, who’d been mostly silent on the drive up. He hadn’t minded; he’d never been up towards the mountains before and he’d been fascinated by the changing landscape (and snow! It was still November!). As they drove, he thought back to the past week. There relationship had pretty much consisted of being polite and strained, but he noticed that Derek seemed to be making an effort. He had engaged Stiles in conversation, and had made excuses to make physical contact in small ways. Stiles didn’t like the thought that pity was driving Derek, but he figured they both had to make some effort if they wanted this to be better. Derek spoke from the driver’s seat,

“We’re here.”

~~~

Derek had started the drive to the Ridge with a knot in his gut, but the longer they were in the car together, the more the tightness in his body loosened. As he passed familiar scenery, and finally the sign welcoming you to the town, he felt his nerves relax. He loved this place, and despite the circumstances bringing him back, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness. He looked sideways at Stiles, who was gawping out the window, and smiled to himself. He drove around the outskirts of town, until he pulled up to a modest house. It wasn’t quite a log cabin, but it was built with natural colored woods that helped it blend with the large trees surrounding it.

“We’re here, “ Derek said to Stiles, who jumped and peered through the windshield at the house.

“Derek, this place is fantastic!” he enthused, and Derek shrugged, trying not to look too pleased.

“Grab your things, and I’ll give you the tour.” 

Stiles smiled and grabbed his bags from the back seat. Derek followed suit, and they crunched through the leaves and inch or so of snow up to the front door. Derek unlocked it, and reached inside to flip the lights on before waving Stiles through. Coming in behind him, Stiles wiped his feet on the rug and looked around the large room with obvious interest.

The first floor of the house had a large vaulted ceiling, and open concept floor plan, with a wall of windows that looked out onto a large deck. The furniture was all comfy and well-worn, several couches surrounding a fireplace, with a television mounted on the wall above it. 

Derek explained as they walked in, “I’ve taken the loft bedroom upstairs, since I’m the only one who’s visited here in years. There’s a guest bedroom and bathroom downstairs, and I have a small building out back that I’ve turned into my workshop.” He paused and looked at Stiles. “We can drop our things and then head into town for dinner. There’s a pub that makes fantastic steaks just a few minutes drive from here.” Stiles nodded and they headed up the wide staircase into the loft. The room was dominated by a gigantic bed positioned under skylights in the ceiling. There was a door ajar on one wall that led to a large ensuite bathroom. It looked like Stiles was pleased with it, and Derek felt a little pride. They unpacked their clothes and toiletries, and turned on the heat, before heading out for dinner. Derek drove down the main thoroughfare and pulled off in front of a pub.

Stiles raised his eyebrows, “The Big Horn? Really?” 

Derek snorted. “It’s just a name; the food’s great, I promise.” 

Stiles quirked an eyebrow and smirked, before climbing out of the car. The two of them headed inside, Derek pointing out the ‘please seat yourself’ sign, before steering them towards a booth. They had barely sat down, before they heard a gleefully shouted, “DEREK!” 

Derek turned with a grin to see Erica hurrying over to their booth, her waitress pad in hand and blonde curls bouncing. She reached them and threw her arms around Derek’s neck, and he returned the hug, squeezing her tightly. Stiles looked back and forth between them with an amused expression on his face.

“It’s so great to see you; we’ve missed having you around, you big lug,” she said, after she released him. Derek noticed the large ring on her finger and pointed at it,

“What, may I ask, is that?” 

She grinned toothily at him and replied, “Boyd finally got his head out of his ass, that’s what that is.” 

Derek feigned hurt, “And when were you planning on telling me?” 

Erica wagged a finger in his face. “I wanted to spill right away, but your mother told me you were coming back, and I thought the surprise would be more fun.” Then she looked to Stiles for the first time, and whistled appreciatively. “And you must be Stiles. You’re just the way Talia described. I’m Erica.” She stuck her hand out and Stiles shook it, smiling back. 

“Nice to meet you, Erica.” 

“You must be something, if you managed to ensnare our picky Alpha here.” Derek grimaced as Stiles smiled tightly and looked down at his hands. Erica seemed to pick up that she’d struck a nerve, so she turned to Derek and asked, “Your usual, I’m guessing?” 

Derek nodded, and studied his napkin while Stiles ordered some food. Erica jotted down his order, squeezed Derek’s shoulder and walked away. 

“She seems nice,” Stiles said, finally.

“She’s great,” Derek replied. “She and a few friends were camping in these mountains a few years ago when they were attacked by a rogue Alpha. They were all bitten and turned. I helped them learn to deal with their shifts. We all got pretty close.” 

Stiles nodded, and looked at Derek considering. “I can’t really picture you as a mentor.”

“There weren’t many choices out here. I’d like to think I did okay. I wouldn’t mind introducing you to them.”

“You’d like me to meet your friends?” Stiles asked, looking surprised, but undeniably pleased.

Derek looked at him seriously, “Of course I do.” 

Stiles’ pleased smile was back, and Derek felt a flutter in his stomach that surprised him, before he smiled back.

~~~

Stiles sat curled up on one of the couches in the living room, a mug of hot chocolate in his hand. The first few days spent on the Ridge had been the most pleasant he’d had in a two months. After dinner that first night, Erica had dragged Stiles and Derek over to see her fiancée, Boyd, and their friend Isaac, who had just come in for their bartending shifts. Everyone had been extremely nice, and Isaac had even offered to show Stiles around town the next day with his best friend Scott. Stiles had marveled at the easy way Derek had been with all of them. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Derek so relaxed, but he decided that it suited him.

He had been nervous about spending time with Isaac and Scott the next day, and when he explained his fear to Derek, carefully avoiding Ethan’s name, Derek had promised him that Scott and Isaac were harmless and pretty much as close to actual puppies as a pair of werewolves could get. The three of them had spent the day wandering around town, and Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Probably not since Lydia had left. He’d come back to the cottage relaxed and happy, to find Derek cooking them an elaborate dinner, after having spent the day talking to various residents of the Ridge about the recent hunter activity. He’d seemed hesitant to talk about it though, so they had made polite conversation about what he had done with Scott and Isaac, before heading upstairs to bed.  
In bed that night, more than ever, Stiles had felt the divide between them lying next to each other, but he didn’t think he had the courage to break it just yet.

Coming out of his thoughts, Stiles took another sip of cocoa and watched Derek, who was stretched out on the other couch, drawing in his sketchbook. He cleared his throat and asked, “So, are you going to tell me anything about what you’ve been finding out?” 

Derek looked up and sighed. “It’s pretty much what my mom described. There’s been vague threats made, that seem to point to hunters. Arrows embedded in trees outside the homes of werewolves, some threatening letters in the mail, anti-werewolf propaganda being put up around town.” Derek shook his head, “It all seems rather juvenile to me. But I think we should stay for the time being; it’s not a good idea to underestimate people this dedicated to their cause.” 

Stiles nodded in understanding. He’d seen plenty of crap as the son of a Sheriff; he knew just how crazy some people could be. He drained his cup and moved to the kitchen and put it in the sink, then turned around and leaned against the counter. “What are you working on?” he asked tentatively. 

Derek looked up at him, surprised. Probably because Stiles had never asked about his work before, but Stiles had seen how Derek was trying to get to know him, and he thought he should start returning the favor. Derek sat up on the couch and waved him over. Stiles cautiously sat next to Derek, aware of how the line of his leg was pressed against him. When Derek handed him the sketchbook, he looked at the design, which was clearly for a large wardrobe or hutch. It was a simple, but elegant design and Stiles was impressed, despite himself.

“This is really good, Derek.”

Derek shrugged, “It’s not bad. I can’t start working on it until I get back to the bigger shop in Beacon Hills. But the idea came into my head and I just wanted to get it down.”

Stiles flipped through the rest of the sketchbook quickly; he could see Derek’s style in each of the pieces that he jotted down. It was understated, but doubtless produced beautiful pieces.

“Could I maybe watch you working on something sometime?” he asked. 

Derek smiled at him. “I’d like that. I tend to live in my head when I’m working though, so don’t be offended and think I’m ignoring you.”

“Eh, I’ll just keep talking anyway,” Stiles smirked. 

Derek snorted, “No surprise there.” 

Seemingly without thinking, he reached his hand over and combed his fingers through the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles’ breath caught and he froze, looking wide-eyed at Derek. He caught Derek’s gaze and they sat just looking at each other momentarily. Derek cleared his throat and stood up, breaking the moment, and Stiles made sure to smile at him warmly.

“I’m beat. I think I’ll head to bed.” 

Derek smiled back softly, “I’ll be up in a few.” 

Stiles nodded and picked his way upstairs. He curled up on his side of the bed and waited until Derek turned the lights off downstairs and made his way up as well. Stiles listened as he puttered around in the bathroom, before coming back and climbing into the other side of the bed. Stiles waited for a moment, wrestling with himself, before deciding to go for broke. He flipped himself over so he was curled up facing Derek and gently laid his hand on Derek’s chest. He held his breath as he heard Derek’s heart rate pick up slightly, before evening out again. Then he slowly raised his arm and laid his hand on top of Stiles’. Stiles grinned to himself, and relaxed into sleep.

~~~

Derek was in the middle of explaining a dovetail joint to Stiles, when it happened. The past few weeks had gone by in a blur, and in that time, they had carved out a simple routine of spending time together, hanging out with Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Scott, and Derek working in his shed. True to his word, Stiles had started spending a lot of his time there, watching Derek working with his hands, and despite what Derek had told him, he talked so much that it forced Derek to respond. To his surprise, he found he liked explaining what he was doing to Stiles, who showed an aptitude for the details, and process of woodworking. 

Right now, Derek was using re-purposed barn wood and turning it into a sideboard. He was carefully sawing the side of a drawer, and he explained, “These will interlock with the front of the drawer. Once you add glue, it’s almost impossible to pull a dovetail joint apart.” 

Stiles had his face right down where Derek was working, looking intently at the delicate work Derek was doing, to make the trapezoidal shape appear.

“How much practice does it take to do one?” He looked up at Derek, who looked down into his eyes.

“A lot. It’s a very delicate process, and if you want the end result to be beautiful, it takes time.” 

Stiles smiled slightly, still looking at Derek. Then he stood up and said, “I’m going to get a drink; you want something?” 

Derek shook his head, “No thanks.” 

Stiles rubbed Derek’s back for a moment, and then headed out the door of the shed towards the house. 

Derek felt his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t deny the rush of affection that had gone through him when Stiles had touched him. During his time with Stiles over the past few weeks, they had done a lot of talking to make up for the first two months of their bond. Derek came to find that Stiles was intelligent, extremely sarcastic and witty, with the self-awareness that he could really be an asshole sometimes. Since Derek also had that unfortunate characteristic, he’d wryly noted that they at least had that in common. After that assertion, Stiles had gone down a massive list of questions he’d pulled from some internet survey, determined to find what else they had in common (among other things, a love for old sci-fi movies, British sitcoms and a burning hatred of country music).

At this point, Derek was mostly upset that he hadn’t bothered to take the time to find these things out before now (see: tendency to sometimes be an asshole). He was determined to make up for lost time.  
Another aspect of their time together, was Stiles’ tendency of starting to initiate more and more physical contact with Derek. Derek still felt awkward about it; it felt like their relationship had started completely backwards. They’d already slept together, but he felt nervous about even kissing Stiles at this point, not knowing how’d he react. But the longer they were here on the Ridge, the more he wanted physical intimacy from Stiles.

He just had to admit to himself that he had genuine feelings for Stiles. 

~~~

“Derek!” Stiles called as he came through the front door of the house. 

Derek leaned over the balcony of the loft to respond, a ratty paperback clutched in his hand. “What?”

“I ran into Erica while I was out. She invited us over to have dinner with her and Boyd tonight.” 

“Sounds great,” Derek replied, as Stiles climbed the stairs, grabbing some clean clothes and heading toward the bathroom. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” 

Derek nodded and lay back down on the bed, burying his face back into his book.

Stiles stripped of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He thought about how happy he’d been the last few weeks. He could tell that Derek was making a concerted effort to make things better. It was more like the Derek he’d expected when he’d accepting his mating claim. Stiles trailed his hands over his body. The level of physicality in their relationship had increased, but still hadn’t moved beyond fairly simple touches. Stiles wanted more. His dick started to swell as he continued touching himself. Maybe it was a little cruel to be doing this while Derek was on the other side of the door, surely able to tell what was going on. Stiles smirked to himself and decided he didn’t much care. 

If he was wrong (and he didn’t think he was), Derek maybe needed a little push to take things to the next step. He closed his soapy hand around his erection and stroked it, groaning quietly. Not trying to drag anything out, he fisted it quickly, quietly moaning as he spent himself down the drain. He turned off the shower and toweled himself off, before quickly getting dressed and brushing his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, Derek still had his nose buried in his book, but the tips of his ears were red. He peeked out over the top of the book, heat in his gaze. Stiles couldn’t help feeling pretty proud of himself.

When the two of them finally made it to Erica and Boyd’s house, Erica gave them both a hug at the door, before ushering them into the kitchen to help set out the food. After dinner, Erica dragged Derek off somewhere, leaving Stiles with Boyd. They settled down in the den, after Boyd started a fire (did every house here have a fireplace?). 

“How’s it been going with Derek?” Boyd asked. 

Stiles jumped; Boyd hardly ever talked.

“It’s been going pretty good. It’s been nice to see Derek relaxed,” Stiles replied. 

Boyd rolled his eyes, “Yeah; it takes awhile. I think it took almost a year before Derek was comfortable with any of us.” 

Interest peaked, Stiles asked, “What was he like when you first met him?” 

Boyd thought for a moment before he replied. “You know that Erica, Isaac and I were all bit by a rogue Alpha, right?” 

Stiles nodded. 

“Derek came to help us learning to control the shift. He was pretty business-like, seemed private, like he wanted to keep to himself. And he was manic on the subject of control; he hates to let his animal side take over the rational part of his mind.”

Stiles couldn’t help but muse on what Boyd said. Stiles remembered the primal drive he’d felt the night of their bonding ceremony. If Derek had also felt so out of control about their mating, it could explain his reaction the morning after. 

Boyd continued, “Anyway, after spending so much time together, I think Derek got used to having us around. I think he missed his family back in Beacon Hills, and kind of adopted us as his family away from home. He always watched out for us and even started referring to us as his pack.” 

As Boyd finished speaking, they heard the sound of Derek and Erica coming back downstairs. Erica came into the room and immediately snuggled with Boyd on his chair. Derek leaned against the doorframe, smiling as he looked at the two of them.

“So boys,” Erica said, “because I have absolutely no girlfriends in this town, you do realize you’re getting recruited for my bachelorette party, right? This stick in the mud,” she poked Boyd, “hates partying, but I’m not taking no for an answer from you too.” 

Stiles burst out laughing and Derek buried his face in his hands.

“Nothing fancy, we’re just hitting up the only bar that has a dance floor,” she finished.

“Can’t wait,” Derek deadpanned. After Erica had pointedly declared she was ready for bed (while waggling her eyebrows at Boyd), Derek and Stiles had gotten Erica’s party information, bid them goodnight and headed back to their house. Stiles watched Derek puttering around the living room, and thought some more about what Boyd had said. He couldn’t deny that both of them had been pretty big assholes at the beginning, but seeing Derek at ease, had certainly changed things. Making up his mind, he walked purposefully up to Derek and put his hand on Derek’s shoulder. Derek turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. Stiles leaned forward slowly and gently touched his lips to Derek. For a moment, there was nothing, and then Derek kissed back tentatively. Stiles felt affection bubbling up inside him and sighed happily into Derek’s mouth. 

Stiles pulled back from Derek and said, “I’m liking it here.”

~~~

Derek and Stiles were back out in Derek’s shop when his phone rang. 

“It’s Scott,” Derek told Stiles, before he answered with a “What’s up?”

_“Derek, my mom needs you to come down to the clinic; it’s an emergency!”_

“I’ll be right there.” Derek said. He hung up quickly, and looked at Stiles,

“There’s been an emergency; Scott needs me at the clinic.” 

Stiles replied, “Well then, I’m coming with you.” 

It was a tense drive to the small clinic that was the only source of medical care on Potter’s Ridge. There was a hospital about an hour’s drive away, but the staff at the clinic could usually handle most problems. Derek parked, and he and Stiles headed into the waiting room, where they saw Scott pacing back and forth. Scott saw them enter and scurried over to them.

“Guys, there’s been an attack; it looks like it’s the hunters.” 

Derek felt his jaw clench. “How bad?” 

Scott shrugged, “I don’t really know. My mom just called me and wanted me to get a hold of you. She wanted to see you as soon as you got here.” 

Derek clapped Scott on the shoulder and said, “Thanks. Do you want to hang out with Stiles while I’m talking with Melissa?” 

Scott and Stiles smiled at each other. “We’ll be fine Derek; you go ahead.” 

Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand and headed toward the back of the clinic. As he strode through a set of swinging doors, he heard pained noises coming from behind the door of one of the rooms.

“Melissa?” he called. 

An answering call came from the same room. “In here, Derek!” 

Derek opened the door and grimaced. There was a middle-aged man on the exam table, with an arrow still protruding from his shoulder. There were two more arrows with bloody tips lying next to him.

“This is Earl,” Melissa said, “He lives on the outskirts of the town. He heard what sounded like a wounded animal out in the woods, but when he went to investigate, he was shot.” She rubbed the man’s good shoulder, before removing the arrow as the man ground his teeth together. She gestured to Derek to come out into the hallway with her.

“Derek, I’m getting worried. Threats are one thing; werewolf prejudice will probably always be around, but with people actually getting attacked?” Her eyes flashed gold, momentarily betraying how upset she really was.

“I know, I know. I don’t want anything to happen to the wolves in this town. We need to start being more proactive about finding where these people are holed up. I’m sure I can get some help from my pack.” 

At this, Melissa’s face twisted for a split-second, but she composed herself. Derek put his hands on her shoulders, “I won’t let anything happen to Scott.” 

She tried to smile. “Thank you, Derek.”

~~~

Scott and Stiles were curled up on chairs in the waiting room. Stiles jiggled his foot restlessly as he waited for Derek to come back.

“Have you ever thought about leaving the Ridge?” he asked Scott. 

Scott looked guilty for a moment. “I’d hate to leave my Mom. We’re all each other has...but I’ve been thinking about going to college. The problem is, even if I got in, I don’t think we could ever afford it.”  
“What about scholarships?” Stiles asked. 

Scott laughed. “I don’t think my grades from high school are good enough...plus, they’re difficult to get without a sponsor from an Alpha.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’d love to go to college too...but I don’t know how to ask Derek about it.”

“You should try. You told me how much better things have been between you two, since you came to the Ridge.”

“It’s a work in progress. I’m just not sure how to go about asking him for something that huge.” 

They fell silent when they both heard the sound of the doors to the back of the clinic slamming open, and a moment later, Derek came through with a grim look on his face. 

Scott and Stiles both jumped up.

“How bad it is?” Stiles asked.

“It’s not good,” Derek replied tersely, before motioning for Stiles to come with him. “I need to get a hold of Boyd. We’ll need to start putting together tracking parties to try and find these guys.” 

Stiles and Scott exchanged a look, in response to Derek’s words, before giving each other a quick hug.

“I’ll see you later, man,” Stiles said. 

Scott nodded. “I’m going to go see if Mom needs some help.” He turned and headed off to the back of the clinic. 

Derek and Stiles headed back out to their car, just as snow started to fall.

“Is it really bad?” Stiles asked as he buckled himself into the car.

“If the hunters have started attacking people...it could make them over-zealous and easier to catch. But it also makes them more dangerous.” 

Stiles brushed the snow out of Derek’s hair before resting his hand on the back of Derek’s neck. “I know how much you care about these people; I know you’ll take care of them.” 

Derek reached over and squeezed Stiles’ knee. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

~~~

Derek spent the next week tracking the hunters through the woods surrounding the Ridge. The weather had taken a turn towards full-on winter. It wouldn’t be long before seasonal residents and tourists started pouring in, with the double consequence of making it more difficult to locate strangers and raising the odds of someone else getting hurt. He and Isaac had found what looked like the remains of a camp, but they had clearly moved on to somewhere else at that point. Derek found himself getting more and more frustrated with coming up empty-handed. He was grousing about it to Stiles one night, as they were sitting and watching television. Stiles clicked the remote and turned the TV off. 

He turned to Derek. “Well, there is one thing to take your mind off this.” 

“What’s that?” Derek asked warily.

“Erica’s bachelorette party is tonight,” Stiles grinned. 

Derek groaned and put his face in his hands. “How badly do you think she’ll mutilate me if I don’t go?” 

Stiles got up and slapped Derek’s knee, “Yep, not gonna happen, buddy. We’re going.” 

They got dressed and headed out to the bar that Erica had chosen. It was fairly empty, although the lights were so low, it was hard to see much. Derek spotted Erica, Isaac and Scott already starting on wolfsbane-enhanced shots at the bar. They waved and yelled when they saw Derek and Stiles coming through the door. Isaac put up two fingers to the bartender and Stiles and Derek were given their own shots.

“Thanks for coming, boys!” Erica said to the room in general, “In one month, I’m marrying the most wonderful guy in the world. But tonight, I want to get smashed.” 

They raised their glasses in a toast before slamming the shots back. Derek felt the burn of the liquor going down his throat, the wolfsbane causing a pleasantly warm rush in his extremities. The next hour passed in a blur, and eventually people started making their way to the dance floor as pounding rhythms came on one by one from the juke box. 

Derek steadfastly refused to dance, at least until Stiles grabbed his hands and forced him off the barstool. 

“Come on, Derek, one dance isn’t going to kill you.” 

Derek walked hand-in-hand with Stiles past where Erica was currently wedged between Isaac and Scott, looking frankly indecent. Stiles started moving his hips sinuously to the music, and Derek, who had never seen Stiles dance before, was amazed at how graceful he managed to look. Stiles wasn’t exactly a klutz, but Derek had had no idea he could move this well. He swung his arm over Derek’s shoulder and buried his fingers in the hair at the back of Derek’s neck, while hooking his other arm around Derek’s waist, pulling them flush together. Derek felt the puff of Stiles’ breath on his face, and leaned his forehead against him as they started to move in tandem. Derek could feel beads of sweat rolling down his back and saw a similar sheen on Stiles’ forehead, but neither of them pulled apart. Derek gave into temptation and leaned forward to kiss Stiles. 

Stiles groaned and pulled Derek even closer. 

The kiss was open-mouthed and hot, the tang of the booze still on Stiles’ tongue. Derek felt Stiles stiffen in his arms before he ripped his mouth away and nearly started gasping. He looked up at Derek, wild-eyed.

“What...what’s going on? It feels like it just got to be a million degrees in here.” He looked around, confusedly for a minute, before realization dawned, “Derek...it feels like my heat. But it’s not supposed to be for another week.” 

Derek looked at Stiles and rubbed his arms, trying to keep him calm. “It’s rare, but sometimes, heats can be triggered early with mated pairs. If there’s a surge of endorphins and hormones when you’re in close proximity.” 

Stiles looked like he didn’t know whether to run or yank Derek closer. “Is it too late? We can run home and get the suppressants,” he sputtered. 

Derek took a deep breath, but said, “That could work. Or maybe...we don’t use them.” He looked up at Stiles, who was open-mouthed. Desire roiled off him in waves, and it reminded Derek of the way he had smelled on the night of their joining, except times a thousand.

“If you’re sure...” The hope in his voice was palpable.

Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands. “I think it’s time I start taking care of you the way I should have from the beginning.” And then Derek left Stiles at the bar, while he explained the situation to Erica.  
She hugged him tightly and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Go take care of your boy.” 

Derek pulled back from the hug, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, before walking Stiles out to the car, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

~~~

The one and only time Stiles had gone through an unsuppressed heat, most of it passed in a haze. He had gone completely out of his mind with lust, and he hadn’t been very aware of his surroundings. That was completely different to how he was feeling now. Instead, every one of his senses felt sharpened. He could barely breathe over the heady scent of Derek. His clothes felt like sandpaper on his skin and he could feel the sweat pouring off his body. He only barely felt Derek steering him out to the car, and he couldn’t resist pressing himself into the line of Derek’s body. 

Derek sucked in a breath and just walked faster, buckling Stiles into his seat, before hurrying around to his side of the car. 

The drive home was torture. Stiles rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs and moaned at the contact. He could see Derek furrowing his brow, and driving as fast as he safely could, through the snow.  
“Please hurry,” Stiles whispered, and he heard Derek swear under his breath. He felt like he would explode if Derek didn’t put his hands on him soon. When they finally pulled into the driveway, the car fishtailed slightly before parking, and then Stiles was fumbling with his sweaty fingers to unlatch his seat belt, before he shakily climbed out of the car. They both stumbled through the door and whipped off their jackets, not bothering to turn on the lights, before heading straight for the loft. Once they got into the bedroom, they both froze, staring silently at each other. Stiles could feel his chest heaving and he could see the heat in Derek’s gaze, his eyes flashing red. Stiles slowly unbuttoned his shirt, keeping eye contact with Derek the entire time, and he could see Derek’s pupils dilate, until there was just a thin ring of crimson around the darkness. Stiles slipped his shirt off his shoulders, letting it catch at his elbows and tilted his head to the side. 

Derek exploded into action, crossing the room in two giant strides. He grabbed Stiles’ shoulders and slammed him into the wall, before kissing him forcefully. Stiles felt himself let out an embarrassing whimper, as he instantly opened his mouth to admit Derek’s tongue. The kiss was more intense than any they had had before, and Stiles felt his dick throb in his pants. He tried to bring his arms up around Derek’s neck, and he whined when he realized they were still trapped by his shirt. Derek reached behind him and ripped the shirt right in half. Stiles moaned loudly and threw his arms around Derek’s neck, pressing his hips against him. Derek tore his mouth away from Stiles, breathing harshly, as he frantically pulled open Stiles’ pants, before pushing them, and his underwear, down past his erection. Before Stiles could even wonder what he was doing, Derek dropped to his knees in front of him, and Stiles threw his head back against the wall, thumping it painfully and squeezing his eyes shut tight. He bit his lip so hard he felt blood flooding his mouth as Derek engulfed his cock with warm, wet heat. He tugged hard on Derek’s hair as he almost instantly felt the prickle of orgasm start at the base of his spine, but Derek only sucked harder, and Stiles let out a shout as he came, bending nearly in half over Derek’s head. 

He vaguely wondered if he should feel embarrassed at how quickly he’d come, but his cock hadn’t gone soft in the slightest. It was still an angry red, visibly pulsing with his heartbeat. “God, Derek, I need you,” Stiles whimpered. 

In response, Derek stood up and rapidly pulled his own clothes off, as Stiles discarded the shredded remnants of his shirt and stepped out of his pants and shoes. Derek picked him bodily off the ground and Stiles instinctively wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. They both groaned as Derek’s dick rubbed against the dripping cleft of his ass, and suddenly, everything slowed down as Derek gently placed him on the bed. 

Derek climbed onto the bed and situated himself sitting against the headboard. He gestured at Stiles and said softly,“Come here.” 

Stiles crawled on shaking hands and knees to Derek and swung his leg over his lap. Derek ran his hands over Stiles’ body, gliding smoothly over his sweat-soaked skin. He cupped Stiles’ chin in his hand and drew his face down for a kiss, and Stiles felt his chest growing tight with emotion. Derek’s other hand reached back to cup his ass, before he swirled the tip of one finger around Stiles’ hole. Stiles let out a noise into Derek’s mouth as his finger slowly slid in, feeling nothing but pleasure as his body readily opened up for its mate.

“Now, Derek,” Stiles breathed against Derek’s lips, moaning faintly as Derek withdrew his finger. 

Derek curved his hands around Stiles’ hips, and Stiles reached behind himself to position Derek’s cock. He sunk down slowly, trying not to cry in relief as he was stretched and filled. He started rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, one hand gripping the headboard, the other around the back of Derek’s neck. He licked his lips and tasted the salt beading on his upper lip. Derek was staring intensely at him, his mouth open and eyes bright. Stiles fought to keep eye contact, the pleasure spiraling out through his limbs, as Derek slid his hands from Stiles hips, up and around his back, pulling him closer. Stiles rocked himself faster, his leaking dick now pressed between their abdomens. His breath was coming in pants and he could feel the sweat dripping off his chin and splashing onto their chests.  
“God, Stiles, you’re beautiful,” Derek grit out, his face contorting with pleasure. 

Stiles whined and buried his face into Derek’s neck, bringing his arms around him to clutch as his back, blunt nails scraping the skin. Derek’s hips had started thrusting up in counterpoint to Stiles’ movement, and he was making harsh noises against Stiles’ neck. Stiles felt Derek’s teeth setting against the tendon in his neck, and he threw his head back and howled as his orgasm slammed into him, his hands clenching and the fingernails breaking skin. Ropes of come shot from his dick, splashing the underside of Derek’s chin. Derek’s thrusting increased in pace as Stiles clung onto him, noises getting ripped from his throat. He felt Derek’s hips jerk up twice more, before his knot started to swell and catch at the rim of Stiles’ ass. Derek thrust up sharply and Stiles wailed as he came again, his cock spurting weakly against his stomach. The knot lodged inside him and Stiles could feel the warmth as Derek’s cock pulsed and emptied itself. He dropped his head onto Derek’s shoulder, breath whistling in and out as Derek petted his back. 

The urgency of the heat flooded out of his body, and Stiles moaned as Derek’s dick twitched and pulsed again, every part of his body riding the thin line between pleasure and pain. They stayed curled up together silently, catching their breath and waiting for Derek’s knot to recede. Even though they weren’t talking, their hands were constantly in motion, stroking over hair and skin. Derek gently pressed his lips into Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles smiled into his neck. 

After about a half-hour had passed, Derek murmured, “We should get cleaned up.” 

Stiles huffed a laugh. “Truthfully, Derek, I don’t even know if I can stand up.” 

Derek snorted softly into Stiles’ shoulder and started to gently roll Stiles over, until he was on his back under Derek. He felt Derek grab the base of his dick and slowly start to pull out. Derek’s come started to leak out of him almost immediately, and he grimaced. 

Derek brushed the sweaty hair back from Stiles’ forehead and said, “You wait here; I’ll be right back,“ and then he disappeared into the bathroom, only to come back with a warm, wet washcloth.  
Stiles reached out for it, but Derek batted his hand away and started wiping the drying come and sweat off of Stiles’ stomach. Stiles’ gut twisted pleasantly and goosebumps sprung up over his body from Derek’s touch. When Derek lifted Stiles’ leg and cleaned between his thighs, Stiles shivered, touched by Derek’s gentleness. Then Derek tossed the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom before nudging Stiles over and sliding into the bed next to him. Stiles turned onto his side and Derek immediately curled up behind him.

Once they were settled, Derek’s arm slid around his waist, and Stiles grabbed it, lacing his fingers through Derek’s, before bringing it up to tuck under his chin. Derek kissed the back of his neck and Stiles sighed happily. And then he was drifting off into sleep.

~~~

When Derek woke up the next morning, he had his face buried in the hair on top of Stiles’ head. He tightened his grip around Stiles’ waist, and heard him start snuffling into his pillow. He twisted in Derek’s arms until he was lying on his back. 

He smiled warily at Derek. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Derek said back, as he started tracing his fingers along Stiles’ stomach. 

Stiles cleared his throat and said hesitantly, “Derek. About last night...I know it was a little out of control...” 

Derek put his fingers on Stiles’ mouth to stop him. “Last night was amazing; don’t doubt that.” 

Stiles’ breath whooshed out of him and he looked relieved. Derek smiled at him and leaned over to press his lips to the corner of Stiles’ mouth, Stiles making a displeased noise before turning to fully catch Derek’s lips. Their mouths moved slowly against each other, a kiss full of soft bites and scrapes of stubble. When the kiss grew more heated, Derek rolled himself on top of Stiles, who spread his legs to make room for Derek to settle between them. Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrists and pressed them into the pillow above his head, before starting a steady rolling of his hips. Stiles pressed his head back into the pillow, his eyes fluttering closed and gasps whispering out of his mouth.

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck, using his other arm to hike Stiles’ leg around his waist. Their cocks were leaking steadily, easing the friction between their bellies. 

Derek pulled his head back and said, “Stiles, look at me.” 

Stiles had his eyes closed, and he was biting his bottom lip, but he slowly blinked his eyes open and looked up at Derek. Derek grinned and tightened his hand on Stiles’ thigh before increasing the pace of his hips. 

Stiles grinned back at him and started tugging his wrists where Derek held them. “Come on, Derek, let me touch you.” 

Derek released his hands and Stiles instantly grabbed his face, and pulled Derek down into a kiss. It was just a soft pressing of lips, but they stayed together, breath puffing wetly against each other’s mouths. 

Derek felt Stiles’ hand snaking down between their bellies, and he groaned as Stiles folded his long fingers around both their cocks. After a few pulls, Derek grunted and spilled himself between their bellies.

“Fucking hell,” he heard Stiles whisper before his hips stuttered, and he added to the mess on their stomachs. Afterwards, Stiles dropped his head back onto the pillow, his heartbeat pounding under Derek’s chest, and Derek leaned forward and rubbed his nose over Stiles’ cheek.

“Now we really should get cleaned up,” he said as Stiles chuckled weakly. Derek slowly levered himself off of Stiles’ body and offered him a hand. Stiles grabbed it, and Derek pulled him upright. Derek couldn’t stop smiling and he was afraid he looked like an idiot. Then again, it looked like a pretty similar smile on Stiles’ face, so there was that.

~~~

Stiles stretched luxuriously on the bed. He felt pleasantly wrung out. After his heat, he had been thrilled and relieved that they hadn’t had a repeat of their first few days together. Once that barrier had been broken again, Derek had become extremely physically affectionate. 

Despite Derek being gone more and more, trying to track down the hunters, when they were together, they found plenty of ways to make the time count. This afternoon was a prime example. Derek had made Stiles come so many times, he was fairly certain his brain had leaked all over the pillowcase. Unfortunately, Derek had gotten a call from Boyd about a possible lead on the hunters right after they’d finished. He had dressed quickly, given Stiles a peck on the lips and rushed out the door.

Stiles rolled over onto his stomach and pillowed his head on his arms. He wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten here, but he was grateful that his life finally seemed to be going somewhere nice. He thought idly about having his dad come for a visit. They had spoken a few days ago, and John had expressed a desire to see the Ridge. Stiles and Scott had their own ideas about maybe introducing John to Melissa McCall. 

Smiling at the thought, Stiles yawned hugely and started to drift off, his face buried in a pillow that smelled like Derek.

He was awoken by the strident sound of his phone going off. He flailed his hand towards the bedside table, and accidentally slapped his phone off it onto the floor. Cursing, he rolled over and grabbed his phone from where it had bounced under the bed.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice still raspy with sleep. He heard Scott’s voice come through the speaker, the panic evident in it.

_“Stiles! Is Derek with you?”_

Stiles blinked awake instantly. “No, he’s not. Boyd called him a few hours ago with info about the hunters and he left to meet up with him. Why, what's wrong?"

 _"Isaac just called me. They were ambushed, attacked. They can't find Derek. They can smell blood; someone's hurt, bad, but they can't find him Stiles. He's not answering his phone either."_  
Stiles felt his stomach drop down to his feet. He stood up and started grabbing his clothes from the floor by the bed. "Where were they?" he asked urgently.

_"Stiles, I don't think it's smart to go out there; Derek's strong, he can look after himself."_

“If that’s what you think, then why did you even call me?” Stiles asked incredulously, "He's my mate Scott; I can't just sit here!" 

Scott let out a frustrated noise. _“I’d hoped you’d be rational enough to at least wait for me to go with you.”_

Stiles took a breath and asked forcefully, “Where are they, Scott?” 

_"They were past the western town line. There's an abandoned farmhouse that they thought the hunters had set up in."_ There was a pause before he asked, _"Stiles, can you please wait for me? Please?"_

Stiles scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "Fine, I'll wait for you. Just get here quick." He hung up and wondered if Scott could hear the lie in his heartbeat over the phone. He decided he didn't care. Stiles finished dressing and grabbed the thickest jacket he had. Derek had taken the car, but their house wasn't far from the western edge of the Ridge. He'd walk if he had to. 

He set off, steadfastly pushing his way through the snow. He'd gone about a mile when he took a deep breath and tried to catch his bearings. He knew roughly where he was going, and his senses allowed him to move more or less in a straight line. A pinch of unease settled in his stomach. Maybe he should have waited for Scott.

But no, this was Derek. He needed to find him. He dug in his pocket for his phone and dialed Derek's number with shaking fingers. It went to voicemail, and Stiles' stomach clenched at the sound of Derek's voice.

 _Dammit, this wasn't fair!_ Finally, things had started going the right way. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and kept walking. The moon reflected off the snow and trees, throwing sparkling illumination around the woods. If Stiles hadn't felt sick to his stomach, it would have been beautiful. 

Suddenly, he heard a branch snap to his right and he whipped his head in that direction.

"Hello?" he tentatively called. There was nothing but silence. The hair on the back of Stiles' neck stood up and he started to slowly walk backwards. His instincts were screaming at him to run. Before he could move, however, he heard a popping sound and felt a supernova of pain explode in his gut. He looked down in horror and saw a small smoking hole in the front of his jacket. 

He'd been shot. 

He turned and stumbled back the direction he came. Fear and adrenaline gave him a burst of speed, even as the blood started pouring through his fingers where they were pressed to his stomach. It felt like there was fire running through his veins. He heard shouts from behind him and pushed himself to run faster. He shook his head as darkness started encroaching in his peripheral vision. He thought he might be going into shock. Could werewolves go into shock? His breath was coming in great, panicky gasps as he stumbled and went down on his knees in the snow. He had no idea how far back he had made it. He needed help. He tried to fumble his phone out of his pocket, straining his ears to hear if the hunters were coming for him. He started to dial when it felt like a tire iron had hit him in the arm. He fell forward into the snow, the coldness forcing its way into his mouth. Before the darkness overtook him, he thought he heard an angry howl in the distance.

~~~

Derek cursed and he searched his pockets for his phone. He must have dropped it sometime during the attack. He, Erica, Boyd and Isaac had gone to investigate an abandoned farmhouse, and instead had found an ambush. Obviously, these hunters had figured out whom they should be gunning for. Derek had gotten separated from the other three, but he’d still managed to take out one of the hunters. The man’s blood had looked so red against the snow. 

He hated killing, but he knew it had to be done. Afterwards, he decided the best thing to do, was to get home. He could use Stiles’ phone and try to find out what happened to the rest of the pack. The nearer he got to their house, however, he started to pick up a strong scent of blood. He felt his heart start to uptick when the scent started to mingle with the very familiar scent of Stiles.

He strained his senses as hard as he could, and followed the scent. He didn’t notice when his steps turned from walking, to a jog, to a full out sprint. He skidded to a halt as he saw a dark shape huddled on the ground.

“No, no, no,” The word fell from his lips repeatedly, as he walked slowly to the body, the blood roaring in his ears. Why wasn’t Stiles getting up? Even if he’d been injured, he should be healing. Derek dropped onto his knees in the snow, and put his hand on Stiles’ back. When he pulled it away, it came up tacky with blood, and Derek felt a choked sob force its way out of his throat. What was going on? He forced himself to focus his senses and gasped when he heard a heartbeat. It was slow and irregular, but it was there. He gently turned Stiles over and let out an involuntary noise at how much blood had soaked into the snow beneath Stiles’ body.

Stiles’ lips were tinged purple, and his eyelashes were fluttering over his bloodless cheeks. Derek ran his hands over Stiles’ body and felt his stomach fall as he found what looked like two separate gunshot wounds, one in the stomach, one in the shoulder. There were sickly black lines fanning out from the wounds that send an icy blade of fear through him. He had a good idea what that, coupled with Stiles’ lack of healing, meant. Pushing down his feelings of anguish, Derek gathered Stiles in his arms and pulled him close in preparation for standing up. When he shifted his body, he noticed Stiles’ phone lying on the ground, smeared with blood. He grabbed it with the hand that was looped under Stiles’ legs and hoisted Stiles off the ground. Guilt twisted his stomach as Stiles let out a pained moan.  
He buried his face in Stiles’ hair and whispered fiercely, “Please hold on.” 

He hurried as fast as he could without jostling Stiles and causing more pain. With blood slick fingers, he frantically dialed Melissa McCall’s number with the hand under Stiles, and put the phone on speaker. 

_“Stiles?”_

Derek heard Melissa’s voice come through the phone, over the sound of his feet crunching on the snow covered ground. “No, it’s me, Melissa.” Derek was shocked at how shaky his voice sounded. “Stiles was shot; I think with wolfsbane bullets. I need your help.”

 _“Derek, where are you?”_ Melissa sounded remarkably calm, probably physician instinct taking over.

“I’m bringing him to my house; I’m nearly there.”

 _“I’m on my way,”_ Melissa replied crisply. _“Is he conscious?”_

“No,” Derek replied shortly, “but he’s breathing and he has a heartbeat.”

 _“If he does wake up, keep him calm. The faster his blood pumps, the faster the wolfsbane will flood his system. Lay him somewhere flat and keep him from overheating. His body will start burning up trying to fight this off.”_

Derek disconnected the call, and tried not to look at Stiles’ blood coating the phone. Less than fifteen minutes later, their house came into view. Stiles had started shaking a few minutes earlier, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Derek didn’t bother trying to get to his keys. Instead, he kicked the door open, splintering the lock, and carefully walked up the stairs to the loft to lay Stiles on the bed. 

He quickly stripped off his jacket, flakes of already dried blood fluttering to the carpet. 

When he made his way to the bed and gingerly began to remove Stiles’ jacket, Stiles whimpered. Not wanting to cause any more pain, Derek flexed his fingers and used his claws to slice away first the jacket, then Stiles’ shirt. He peeled the pieces away, wincing as it stuck to the blood still seeping from Stiles’ wounds. Derek looked down at his mate and felt a deep rage flooding his body. He was supposed to protect Stiles, and now he was helpless to do anything but watch as he suffered. 

Unable to stand the sight of Stiles covered in blood, Derek ran down the stairs to the kitchen and filled a large glass bowl with warm water and collected several towels. He wondered if Melissa was close. Surely she’d know what to do; she’d be able to save Stiles. Still feeling utterly helpless, Derek climbed the stairs, taking care not to slosh the water out of the bowl. He placed the bowl on the nightstand and knelt next to the bed. He dipped one of the towels into the water, squeezed out the excess and began wiping the blood off of Stiles’ stomach. He repeated the motion several times, the water in the bowl quickly turning rust-colored. After his stomach was clean, Derek turned his attention to Stiles’ hands. They were covered in dried blood, where he must have grabbed at himself when he was shot. Derek ran the wet cloth over Stiles’ long fingers before he kissed the palm, and laid it briefly against his cheek. When he licked his lips, the metallic tang of blood flooded his mouth, and his heart clenched.  
Stiles hand spasmed, before his fingers gripped tightly around Derek’s hand. Derek jerked his head up and saw Stiles’ eyes were open. Stiles’ hand squeezed even tighter as he grimaced, and gasped with pain.

“You found me,” he whispered.

“Of course I did,” Derek replied softly. 

Stiles moved slightly and let out a harsh breath. “God, this hurts. Derek!” 

Without even thinking, Derek starting leaching some of Stiles’ pain away, lines of black weaving their way up his arm. 

Stiles’ face regained a bit of color, but he still looked awful.

“What the hell were you doing out there, Stiles?” Derek asked accusingly.

“Looking for you, you idiot!”

“I can take care of myself!” Derek said fiercely. 

Stiles’ face twisted and Derek clutched at his shoulders, “Why did you do this, Stiles?”

“I....I just had to find you,” Stiles rasped. 

They sat silently for a beat. “It’s wolfsbane, isn’t it. Why I’m not healing?” Stiles asked. 

Derek nodded. Stiles looked up at the ceiling. “I’m dying, aren’t I?” He looked at Derek, who couldn’t keep the despair off his face. Stiles bit his lip and nodded, before he let out a broken laugh that turned into a cough. Black blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth, and Derek couldn’t take it. He folded himself over and buried his face in Stiles’ uninjured shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered miserably.

“This wasn’t your fault, Derek,” Stiles insisted, his voice hoarse with effort. 

Derek shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry for everything. Everything I said and did that hurt you. I’m so sorry.” His voice broke on the last word, and Stiles’ face crumpled.

“I’m sorry too.” His hand came up behind Derek and pressed frantically at the back of his head, pushing Derek’s face harder into his neck. “I was an asshole pretty much the same as you.” 

Derek let out a laugh that sounded closer to a sob. When Stiles coughed again, Derek saw his eyes start to flutter shut.

“No, Stiles, stay awake!” he barked. “Melissa’s on her way; she can help you!” 

Stiles whispered something too faint for even Derek’s ears to pick, up before his eyes rolled back to whites and he lost consciousness again.

“Dammit!” Derek shouted. He couldn’t bring himself to move away from Stiles’ side. 

“Derek, is that you?” he suddenly heard from the front of the house.

“Melissa; we’re upstairs! Hurry, please!” He heard her footsteps as she took the stairs two a time. She had a medical kit in her hands as she rushed to Stiles’ side. She opened her kit, pulled on a pair of gloves and selected a long cotton swab. She probed the hole in Stiles’ stomach, before carefully inserting the swab. Her brown crinkled in worry as she carefully removed it. Derek could barely see anything besides blood, but Melissa made a concerned sound in the back of her throat, and rubbed the swab on a small slide of glass from her bag. She used a match to carefully touch a flame to the sample, which immediately erupted in a puff of purple smoke. They both coughed as the brief exposure to the fumes made them dizzy.

“It’s definitely wolfsbane,” Melissa said, as Derek was shaking his head to clear it.

“Then fix him,” he said sharply.

“It’s not that simple, Derek,” Melissa said gently. “I have some wolfsbane with me, but it’s a dicey thing to try and use it to clear up the problem. Different strains react in different ways, and introducing the wrong type into his blood could actually accelerate the effects, instead of curing him.”

“What do we do?” Derek asked desperately.

“You were after the hunters tonight, correct?” 

Derek nodded silently. 

“Then find them,” Melissa continued matter-of-factly, “Or at least their supplies. Bring their wolfsbane to me, and we can cure Stiles.”

Derek launched himself into action, digging Stiles’ phone out of his pocket and using his thumb to wipe away the dried, bloody prints on the screen. 

He tapped out Boyd’s number and heard his deep voice answer immediately, _“Stiles?”_

Derek heard Erica’s voice in the background, sounding upset, _“Did he find Derek?!”_

“Boyd, it’s me,” Derek responded.

 _“What happened?”_ Boyd asked warily, obviously hearing something in Derek’s voice.

“Stiles didn’t find me; I found him. He’s been shot with a wolfsbane bullet.”

 _“Shit,”_ Boyd said, with feeling.

When Derek got off the phone with Boyd, he went back to Melissa. He didn’t bother relaying his conversation, as he was sure she overheard it. She was sitting beside Stiles on the bed, his hand clasped in one of hers as she repeatedly stroked her other hand through the strands of the sweaty hair plastered to his forehead. 

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” Melissa’s question came out sounding more like a statement.

“I trust my pack,” Derek said simply. 

“Is that all?” she asked softly.

“And...I need to be here. If...” Derek swallowed harshly against the taste of bile rising in the back of his throat. Melissa stood up and enfolded Derek in a hug. He clung back, fiercely wishing that his own mother was here right now, but grateful for Melissa. 

“I’ll leave you with him,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs; yell if anything changes.” 

Derek rubbed his hands over his eyes and nodded, and Melissa patted his shoulder, before walking down the stairs. He could hear her get a glass of water, and settle on one of the couches. Derek stood awkwardly next to the bed for a moment before he toed off his shoes and climbed in beside Stiles. He carefully laid his head on Stiles’ chest, listening to the beating of his heart, and feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

“You need to hang on,” Derek murmured. “Stiles...I need you here with me. And this is me talking, not my bond to you. Broken bonds cause pain, but ours isn’t broken, so this has to be me talking, right?” He didn’t know if he was reassuring Stiles or convincing himself, but he couldn’t deny the agony he was feeling at the prospect of losing Stiles. He buried his face in Stiles’ neck and breathed out, “I love you,” into the clammy skin, Stiles’ pulse fluttering against his lips.

Nothing happened.

Derek pulled one of Stiles’ hands to his chest and laced their fingers together. He laid his head back down and resumed listening to Stiles’ heartbeat, silently willing the gentle thumping to keep going. He must have drifted off, though, because the next thing he knew, he was jerking awake violently. For one horrible moment, he thought Stiles’ heart had stopped, and that’s what had woken him. Then he heard what sounded like a stampede of people entering his house.

Isaac came bounding up the stairs to the loft, shouting, “Derek, we’ve got it!” He had a cluster of wolfsbane clutched in one gloved hand. 

Melissa and Scott were hot on Isaac’s heels. “You’re sure?” Melissa asked urgently.

“Dead sure,” Boyd replied. “This is the only kind of wolfsbane they had. This batch was already half gone into making the bullets.” 

Scott rushed around to Stiles’ other side, looking almost gray at the sight of his friend. “Mom, hurry,” Scott pleaded, his hands clenched in the comforter on the bed. 

Melissa took the wolfsbane from Isaac, not even grimacing as the plant instantly started to irritate the skin of her hands. She quickly separated it into two bunches and yelled, “Erica; bring up two glass bowls.” 

Derek heard an affirmative from down the stairs.

“We’ll need to do both wounds at once.” Melissa stated grimly, “This is not going to be pleasant and we can’t count on him staying still for the second wound.” 

Derek held his hand out wordlessly, mouth set in a determined line. 

A moment later, Erica came up the stairs with the two bowls. She dug a lighter out of her jacket pocket and slapped it into Derek’s hand, as both bunches of the plant were added to the bowls. Melissa and Derek looked to each other for a moment, and then Melissa nodded and they both lit their wolfsbane on fire, everyone in the room holding their breath. After the smoking had stopped, they scooped the powdered remains into their hands, Melissa going for Stiles’ stomach and Derek, his shoulder. In a synchronized move, they both slapped their hands over the bullet wounds, forcing the powder inside Stiles’ body. 

The effect was instantaneous. Stiles’ eyes shot open and flared brilliantly amber in the darkness. He opened his mouth and screamed high and wordlessly. Derek slapped his hands onto Stiles’ shoulders as his back curved in an almost painfully high arc off the bed. Derek watched hopefully as the tendrils of blood poisoning started to sinuously recede towards the rapidly healing wounds. After a few seconds, it was over. Stiles dropped back to the bed, his chest heaving with pain and exertion. He looked around the room at everyone gathered around his bed.

“Now, this is embarrassing,” Stiles said weakly, “It’s a party and I’m not even dressed.” 

Derek collapsed onto Stiles’ chest, a near hysterical laugh falling from his lips. Stiles pressed his hand against the back of Derek’s neck, a mirror of what he’d done earlier, and spoke into Derek’s hair.  
“Guess you’re still stuck with me, big guy.” Not even caring that everyone was watching, Derek finally let the tears come.

~~~

Stiles sat curled up on the couch, reading. He felt himself getting more and more relaxed, the last light of the day filtering in through the large windows. It had been a week since the night he’d been shot, although Melissa McCall still insisted that he take it easy. Stiles had been all too happy to comply. He felt about ten years older, the strain of the wolfsbane poisoning, and subsequent recovery, not easily shook off. 

His eyes were just drifting shut when a knock at the door jolted him back to wakefulness. He got up and opened the door, and suddenly found himself instantly pulled into a crushing hug.  
“Scott, man, is this going to be a thing now?” Stiles asked around a mouthful of Scott’s hair. 

“Still thinking about how close we came to losing you,” Scott mumbled in the vicinity of Stiles’ collarbone. 

Stiles tightened his arms around Scott. “Well, you didn’t.” 

Scott pulled back and gave Stiles a grin. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Stiles replied. 

The two of them settled back down onto the couch. “I came by to tell you in person. The last of the hunters have been rounded up. We have them all.” 

Stiles fell back against the couch and blew out a breath, “That’s a fucking relief.” 

Scott nodded and asked, “Is your dad still coming?”

“Yeah, and he’s bringing Chris Argent with him. He’s the head of the hunters allied with the Hale Pack,” Stiles explained to Scott’s questioning look. “Apparently, the hunters have a pretty strict code that these guys broke. Talia’s letting Chris handle them.” Stiles lapsed into silence.

After a moment Scott asked, “Where’s Derek?” 

Stiles snorted. “Holed up out back. I’ve been banned from his shed now, because he’s working on something _‘special’_.”

“How’s he been?” Scott asked. The others had pretty much taken one look at the mess Derek had been that night, and ordered him to lay low with Stiles the past week. And it had been a wonderful week. Derek had been free with his physical affection, seeming to find continuous comfort in spending the majority of his time touching Stiles. Although, now he was sequestering himself each day to do _something._ Stiles still felt slightly uneasy whenever Derek was out of his sight, his gut twisting when they weren’t touching, but he supposed it was a residual effect from the stress of being attacked.

“You know, the night I was shot...I thought I heard...” Stiles began softly.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Stiles replied after a moment. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

Scott grinned.

~~~

Derek looked down at the object in his hands, running his fingers over its’ textured surface. After a moment, he cocked his head as he heard the sound of footsteps crunching on the snow.  
“Derek?” he heard Stiles call softly as he rapped on the door. Derek placed the box on his workbench and covered it carefully with a small tarp. He walked to the door and opened it, his heart swelling at the sweet smile on Stiles’ face.

“Just wondering if you were going to be in there all night,” Stiles teased.

“I’m done. We can go in,” Derek said, taking Stiles’ hand and lacing their fingers together as they set off towards the house. 

Later that night, they climbed the stairs to the loft. Stiles had seemed slightly subdued all through the supper, so once they were upstairs, Derek put a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles turned to face him.

“Is something wrong?” Derek asked. 

Stiles let out a short laugh. “No, nothing’s wrong...I just wanted to talk to you.” 

He went to the bed and sat down on the edge, and Derek walked over and sat down next to him, the line of his thigh pressed against Stiles. Stiles grabbed one of Derek’s hands, and held it in both of his.  
Derek shivered as Stiles’ long fingers traced patterns over his wrist and palm.

“The night I got shot…” Stiles began. 

Derek felt a lump in his throat at the words, and he clenched his fingers around Stiles’. Stiles looked up from their intertwined hands.

“I heard you, Derek. When you said you loved me.” 

Derek’s mouth went dry, and he could feel his heartbeat ratcheting up. He couldn’t read Stiles’ expression though, and he felt panic starting to wash over him.

“I just...” he stuttered, “...I was upset and hurting. I don’t expect anything; I know this is all new.” He tried to pull his hand out of Stiles’, but Stiles just tightened his grip.

“Would you just let me talk?” 

Derek immediately trailed off into silence.

“I love you too,” Stiles said seriously, looking straight into Derek’s eyes. 

Derek felt his breath catch. “You do?” he asked, disbelieving. 

Stiles nodded and smiled, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners.

“When?” Derek asked hoarsely. 

Stiles shrugged slightly, “It’s been coming on gradually, I think. But when Scott told me you were missing and I thought I might lose you...I was so panicked.” He stopped and looked up at Derek. “I just realized...that I don’t ever want to lose you.” 

Derek exhaled shakily and nodded, before whispering, “Me too.”

Stiles disentangled their hands, and brought them up to Derek’s face. Derek felt Stiles’ thumbs rubbing gently over his cheekbones and sighed. He fisted one hand in the front of Stiles’ t-shirt and dragged him closer, and Stiles’ hands slipped around to the back of Derek’s neck, where he started to scratch his fingers through the soft hairs at Derek’s nape. For a moment, Derek let his lips hover over Stiles’, inhaling his natural scent overlaid with the smell of his aftershave. 

The longer he sat there, Derek could feel the moist puffs of Stiles’ breath falling faster against his lips, but Stiles just continued waiting for Derek to make a move, never breaking eye contact. Finally, Derek leaned forward and slid his lips over Stiles’. 

Stiles’ hands clutched Derek to him and Derek instantly felt Stiles’ tongue swiping against his lips. In response, Derek opened his mouth readily, allowing Stiles to delve inside, and he shook with desire when Stiles started to lean backwards onto the bed, pulling Derek with him, hands bunched in Derek’s shirt. Derek pulled his mouth away from Stiles and grabbed him under his armpits, tossing him towards the head of the bed as Stiles let out a breathless laugh.

Derek crawled toward the V of Stiles’ legs and gently settled himself down along the length of Stiles’ body. He propped himself up on one elbow and traced the fingers of his other hand down Stiles’ smooth cheek, enjoying the flush that colored it.

“I love you,” he said softly.

~~~

Stiles looked up at the man above him, feeling like his heart could burst. He never knew it was even possible to feel like this. 

He ran his hand up Derek’s arm, before cupping the back of his head and pulling him down for another slow and heated kiss. He clung to Derek’s shoulders before wrapping one of his legs around Derek’s waist and thrusting his hips up, desperate for friction. Derek pulled away and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, rumbling in approval, before he started rolling his hips harder and harder, Stiles’ breath whooshing out of him after each downward grind.

“Unless we want a mess,” Stiles huffed out, “I think there needs to be fewer clothes, like yesterday.” 

Derek grinned and sat up on his heels, stripping his shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. Stiles felt his dick throbbing in his pants, just from the sight of Derek’s naked torso. Derek leaned forward and slid his hands under Stiles’ shirt, sliding it up towards his armpits and following with his tongue. Stiles bit his lip and tried not to make any embarrassing noises as Derek dragged the flat of his tongue over a nipple. Not content to just lay there passively, Stiles grabbed the bunched up hem of his shirt and tore it off, sighing as the hot skin of Derek’s chest slid against his. Derek propped himself up on his arms and looked down at Stiles silently, before he gave him another quick kiss and slithered down Stiles’ body again.

He made quick work of his own pants and underwear before dragging off Stiles’ jeans and briefs. Stiles moaned aloud as Derek settled on top of his naked body. Sweat and precome slicked the way for a smooth and steady movement, as their erections pressed together, and Stiles could feel his body’s lubrication slicking the skin between his thighs.

“Please Derek, I want you now,” he whimpered. 

Derek took hold of Stiles’ hand and guided it between Stiles’ legs, gathering up the slickness and coating their fingers. Figuring that Derek wanted Stiles to finger himself, he started to slide his hand behind his own balls, but Derek grabbed his wrist instead.

“Wait.” 

Stiles blinked up at him in confusion. 

Still holding Stiles’ wrist, Derek guided his fingers around to his own backside. Stiles felt his mouth drop open and he sputtered as his brain short-circuited. “You want _me_ to?” he whispered.  
Derek’s face was flushed and his chest was heaving. “Please, Stiles,” he said desperately.

“Oh my God, yes, yes, you got it!” Stiles finally had the brains to reply. He slid his fingers in between Derek’s cheeks, his hand shaking with nerves. At the first brush of his fingertip against Derek’s hole, Derek shuddered and let out a sigh, and Stiles carefully slid the tip of his index finger in, marveling at the feeling. He started to slide it in and out, and Derek started shifting his hips in response, riding Stiles’ hand. 

“Good God, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Stiles breathed.

“Shut up,” Derek groused, but he was smiling, a blush racing up his neck and coloring his cheeks. “More now, please.”

“So polite,” Stiles cooed and Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles squeezed a second finger in, but it was nearly too tight. “We’re going to need more lube, or I’m going to hurt you.”

“Bedside table,” Derek said with his eyes closed, smoothly rocking his hips. Stiles managed to reach the drawer, and he pulled out the small bottle of lube. Derek snapped his eyes open and snatched the bottle, opening it and reaching behind himself to dribble lube all over Stiles’ hand. Stiles wrinkled his nose as he felt it sliding up his arm.

“Moderation, Derek,” he jokingly complained. 

Instead of responding, Derek just grabbed Stiles’ cock, and, with his hand covered in more lube, slicked him from base to tip.

“Holy shit,” Stiles cursed, his head slamming back onto the pillow. Moving his hand faster, he added a third finger, desperate to get his cock into that warmth.

“I’m good, Stiles, I promise,” Derek insisted after a minute or so, pulling himself off of Stiles’ fingers.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Just...stay right there,” Derek said, swinging his leg over Stiles’ waist and grabbing his dick. Stiles felt his eyes roll back in his head as Derek slowly sunk himself down, until he was seated in Stiles’ lap. For a moment, neither moved, Stiles digging his nails into his own thighs to keep from coming the minute he got inside Derek.

Holy God, he was _inside Derek._

He could feel Derek’s heartbeat, deep inside his body, could see Derek’s cock pulsing with that same rhythm. Derek started to raise his hips up and down, and Stiles bit his lip against a string of profanity. Derek looked beautiful, his chest shining with sweat, muscles bunching, his head tipped back, baring the long line of his neck. Stiles settled his hands on Derek’s hips, and planted his feet on the bed, giving an experimental thrust upwards. Immediately, Derek moaned and crumpled forwards, sliding his arms under Stiles’ back and holding him close, licking the sweat off of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles slid his hands up the middle of Derek’s back as they settled into a gently rocking pace, their breathing and the slick noises coming from where their bodies were joined, the only sound. After a few minutes Derek started trying to rock back harder, whimpers falling from his lips. 

“Derek,” Stiles whispered into his ear and Derek stilled, “I think it’s my turn to take care of you.” 

He felt Derek’s lips curve into a smile against his neck. They carefully rolled to the side, ending with Derek on his back, and Stiles propping himself up over him. He started gently thrusting his hips, reveling in the feel of Derek surrounding him, and when Derek’s thighs tightened like vises on the sides of his waist, he started to quicken his pace, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. 

Derek looked blissful, his eyes soft and mouth slightly open, small noises steadily falling from his lips like drops of rain. He reached one hand down to his own cock and started fisting it desperately. 

“Uh-uh Derek,” Stiles chided, as he sat back up on his heels and grabbed the undersides of Derek’s legs. He forced them up until Derek’s knees were practically touching his shoulders, the awkward angle forcing him to let go of his cock. Derek moaned loudly and tossed his head back onto the pillows, his hands flying above his head to brace against the headboard. Stiles could feel Derek’s legs straining against his grip, but Stiles had werewolf strength too, and he didn’t let them come down as he started a punishing rhythm. In response, Derek moaned almost continuously, his cock bouncing off his stomach with every thrust, eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me, Derek,” Stiles forced out between breaths, feeling his muscles starting to protest. Derek’s looked up at Stiles, eyes wild and reeking of desperation and need. 

“You’re mine,” Stiles growled, and Derek clamped down instantly, as he came untouched, partially shifting, and clawing at the headboard while he howled his release. Stiles slammed his hips into Derek a few more times, before he gasped his way through his own orgasm and emptied himself into Derek. When Stiles let go of Derek’s legs, they fell bonelessly to the bed, and Stiles pulled out carefully, before he flopped onto the bed next to Derek, both of their chests heaving like a bellows.

“You still with me, big guy?” Stiles asked.

“That was...unexpected,” Derek managed.

“But good?” Stiles prompted hopefully.

“All very good,” Derek replied, bringing Stiles’ fingers to his lips and kissing the tips. Stiles smiled and curled into Derek’s side, every part of himself content.

~~~

Derek wound his way through the crowd of people, two drinks clutched in his hands. Melissa McCall’s living room was full to bursting, and he had to perform some interesting maneuvers to keep from spilling wine all over her white carpet. He finally made it through an opening to the corner, near the fireplace, where Stiles was sitting on the window seat. He held out one of the drinks to Stiles, who took it with a smile, and then Stiles scooted over in clear invitation. Derek settled down next to him on the window seat, and Stiles immediately looped his arm through Derek’s, and rested his head on his shoulder. They surveyed the laughing and talking crowd, before spotting Stiles’ father talking to Melissa, the flush evident on his face even from across the room. Derek nudged Stiles and nodded in their direction, and Stiles’ smile widened.

“They’re not the only ones,” Stiles said, surreptitiously pointing to where Scott was animatedly talking to Chris Argent’s daughter, who had come with him, to collect the hunters. She was smiling brightly at him, showing off a deep set of dimples.

“What’s in the water up here, Derek? I mean, seriously,” Stiles said. 

Derek smiled. “I don’t know, but I’m a fan.” He nuzzled the side of Stiles’ neck, and Stiles laughed and shoved him off. They sat sipping their drinks and watching the crowd mingle, although they both snorted as they heard Erica loudly protesting wearing white to her wedding.

“I think it’s a little late for that, Boyd!” she insisted, as Boyd buried his face in his hands. 

They sat in silence for a little longer, before Derek decided he’d waited long enough. He stood up and offered Stiles his hand, “Come with me.” 

Stiles grabbed the outstretched hand and followed him curiously, as Derek led him to one of the guest rooms, and had Stiles sit down on the bed. He still looked unsure of what Derek was doing. 

Derek opened the closet and pulled out an object wrapped in cloth.

“I asked Melissa if I could leave this here until the party tonight,” Derek said, before holding it out to Stiles, who took it carefully, his mouth turned up at the corners. He pulled the string holding the cloth on, and gently pulled back the fabric layers. His mouth dropped open as the dark wooden box came into view. It had been meticulously carved, the top depicting a pair of wolves howling at the moon, with tree branches and leafy vines winding their way around the sides. Derek fought against the nervousness as he waited for Stiles’ response.

“Oh my God, Derek,” Stiles breathed. “Is this what you’ve been working on?” He ran his hands over the top, tracing the long line of the wolves’ necks.

“I made the box itself a while back...but the carving...I wanted something on it that reminded you of...us,” Derek said softly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I love it,” Stiles said sincerely, before he flipped the latch to look inside. His brow wrinkled at the papers that were laid neatly in the box. “Derek, what...?” he started before he saw what was written on them. “College admissions paperwork?”

“If I sponsor you, we can get you enrolled as soon as the spring,” Derek replied, smiling at the open-mouthed shock on Stiles’ face. 

Stiles looked down at the paperwork silently, before he very carefully moved the box to the bedspread next to him. Derek found himself promptly tackled, Stiles throwing his arms around Derek’s neck and clinging to him. Derek slipped his own arms around Stiles’ back and held him tightly. He could hear Stiles whispering, “thank you, thank you,” against his neck, and then Stiles pulled back, and Derek cupped his face before leaning in a kissing him, a gentle press of lips. 

Derek cleared his throat and said, “There’s more than one set of paperwork, you know.” 

“What?” Stiles asked.

“I thought Scott might be interested as well.” 

Stiles kissed Derek fiercely before he ran out of the room, shouting for Scott. He could hear Stiles as he found him and started to excitedly explain. Judging by Scott’s surprised and elated reaction, Melissa had kept the secret from her son.

Derek walked over to the bed and sat down on the comforter. He picked up the wooden box and held it on his lap. He ran his hands over the surface and marveled at how they’d gotten to this point. He traced a finger over the carved wolf that he’d privately decided was Stiles, and then looked up as a shadow fell in the doorway. Stiles was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and the corner of his mouth turned up. 

After a few beats of silence, Derek asked, “What?”

“I guess you turned out to be a pretty good Alpha after all.” 

Derek felt himself flush. He set the box down on the bed and walked over to Stiles, sliding his arms around his waist. Stiles’ arms automatically went around Derek’s shoulders, holding him tightly.

“It took me long enough,” Derek muttered. 

Stiles gently smacked the back of his head. “But you made the effort. You got yourself there.” He leaned forward and Derek sighed as Stiles softly kissed him. 

He pulled back and looked Stiles in the eye, “So...do you think you’re ready to go back to Beacon Hills?”

Stiles smiled sunnily. “Ready when you are.”

~~~

_**Epilogue: Two Years Later** _

“Scott, please man, do me a solid,” Stiles pleaded into the phone.

 _“Why can’t you just go to the library yourself?”_ Scott grumped.

“It’s the first night Derek and I both have off in two weeks! Please, man,” Stiles said, trying not to put too much whining into the tone.

_“Your point?”_

“Hey, it was because of me and Derek that you met Allison....kind of,” Stiles countered. He heard Scott scoff through the phone, but it was good-natured.

_“Fine, I’ll get your research. But you owe me, man.”_

Stiles grinned into the phone, “You’re the best, Scotty!” 

Scott just snorted and hung up the phone. Stiles stuffed his phone back into his pocket and pushed the door open to the coffee shop. He stepped up to the counter and placed an order for two pumpkin spice lattes. 

Despite protests to the contrary, autumn specialty drinks were Derek’s crack, and Stiles knew it would make him smile. He picked the two cups when they were ready, and turned to head out the door when he heard his name, “Stiles?” 

Stiles turned and felt his stomach drop. “Ethan,” he said flatly. 

The young man smiled, showing teeth and sauntered up to where Stiles stood, frozen.

“How long has it been?”

“Not long enough,” Stiles muttered, and the smile fell off of Ethan’s face slightly.

“I just moved back to town; how’ve you been?” 

His gaze traveled up and down Stiles’ body, and he had to suppress of shudder. “Wonderful. I’m in school,” Stiles replied.

“Still with that Alpha?” Ethan fished. 

Stiles nodded, “Yep.”

“Hmm. Too bad; I seem to remember he was a real asshole.”

“You go on and keep thinking that,” Stiles retorted, before abruptly turning and marching out the door. He fumed awhile as he stomped down the sidewalk. The more he thought of Ethan, the angrier he got, until he forced himself to stop, and think about the direction his life had gone in the past two years.

He was well into his degree, he had great friends, and he had a wonderful mate waiting for him at home. Someone like Ethan; what were the chances he’d have something like that? No matter what had happened those years ago, Stiles had come out on top. He sipped his drink and allowed himself a slightly smug smile.

~~~

Derek turned down the pasta sauce on the stove to simmer, and wiped the counter off. He heard the front door of the small house open and smiled at the smell of pumpkin drifting in with Stiles. As he heard the jingle of keys hitting the small bowl on the entryway table, Derek turned and smiled. Stiles came in, and smirked at him over the rim of his coffee, one hand holding out the other cup to Derek, who walked up to take it.

After he had taken a sip, and he’d had to hold back a moan at the taste, he leaned forward and rubbed his face against Stiles’ neck. Stiles tipped his head back and sighed into the contact.  
“How was your day?” he asked. 

For a moment, Stiles’ mouth tightened. Then he smiled, “Great...now that I’m home with you.” 

Derek tried not to feel too pleased by that comment, but failed miserably.

“Erica called,” he said conversationally, and Stiles raised his eyebrows. “She and Boyd are bringing Evelyn to visit next weekend. And we’re supposed to come up with a very good reason why we missed her first birthday.” 

Stiles sputtered, “I had a test the next day!” 

He looked so put-out, Derek couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m kidding. She knows how hard you’re working, and they both love visiting here anyway, especially since Melissa moved in with your dad.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Stiles grumbled, but he looked extremely pleased. “Erica sent me a picture of Evelyn the other day. You won’t believe how big she’s gotten.”

“Yeah, she warned me that now that Evie’s walking, the amount of damage she does is staggering.” 

Stiles laughed and hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, as Derek popped some garlic bread into the oven. Derek put some water on to boil for the pasta, and then turned, to notice Stiles studying him consideringly.

“What?” he asked. 

Stiles flushed and looked down at his cup. “Do you ever think about having kids?” 

Derek felt a thrill in his gut. “Sometimes...in a few years, maybe.” Derek looked up at Stiles. “But for right now, I’ve got all I need.”

Stiles’ smile lit up the room. 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Dubious-consent: I've included this tag because Derek and Stiles go into a mate!relationship feeling somewhat forced and uncomfortable, Derek in particular. There's also some concern that 'instincts' rather than reason are why they're having sex. They also have heat!sex later in the story, but it is discussed and both give consent. 
> 
> Sexual assault/non-con: There's a brief scene where Ethan tries to force himself on Stiles, despite Stiles telling him to stop. Stiles is briefly forced to touch Ethan, while they're both fully-clothed. It's not graphically described and is only in one short scene, but if I was in Stiles' shoes in that situation, I would consider it assault/non-con and tagged it as such.


End file.
